Classic Audiobook Collection - The Spirit of Bambatse by H. Rider Haggard ~ Full Audiobook [adventure]

Episode Date: January 5, 2024

The Spirit of Bambatse by H. Rider Haggard audiobook. Genre: adventure Also published as Benita: An African Romance, The Spirit of Bambatse follows Benita Clifford, a young Englishwoman sailing toward southern Africa to reunite with the father she has barely known and to start over on his isolated Transvaal farm. On the voyage she encounters Robert Seymour, a restless young man whose sudden attachment to Benita promises safety and scandal in equal measure. But the land they enter is charged with old wars, uneasy alliances, and rumors of a vanished Portuguese fortune hidden somewhere near the forbidding hill called Bambatse. Drawn into a search that mixes scholarship, greed, and sheer survival, Benita discovers that she possesses an unsettling gift: vivid visions that arrive like messages from beyond, pointing toward dangers and possibilities others cannot see. As rival motives tighten around the expedition and local powers watch every move, the quest turns into a test of courage, loyalty, and faith. With shipwreck, wilderness travel, and a haunting presence tied to Bambatse itself, Haggard blends romance with the supernatural to ask what the past demands from the living, and what a person is willing to risk for love and treasure. (Sources: plot summaries and publication notes commonly listed under Benita (novel) and The Spirit of Bambatse.) For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 00 (00:02:59) Chapter 01 (00:25:51) Chapter 02 (00:45:54) Chapter 03 (01:04:51) Chapter 04 (01:26:02) Chapter 05 (01:47:06) Chapter 06 (02:05:43) Chapter 07 (02:24:56) Chapter 08 (02:47:58) Chapter 09 (03:08:45) Chapter 10 (03:28:15) Chapter 11 (03:48:22) Chapter 12 (04:07:42) Chapter 13 (04:27:21) Chapter 14 (04:46:11) Chapter 15 (05:04:23) Chapter 16 (05:24:19) Chapter 17 (05:41:11) Chapter 18 (06:05:08) Chapter 19 (06:23:40) Chapter 20 (06:43:40) Chapter 21 (07:05:04) Chapter 22 (07:26:18) Chapter 23 (07:45:25) Chapter 24 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Spirit of Bambatsy, a romance by H. Ryder Haggard, author of Shee, Aisha, King Solomon's Mines, Alan Quatermain, etc, etc. New York, Longman's Green & Company, 91 and 93 Fifth Avenue, 1906. Author's note It may interest readers of this story to know that its author believes it to have a certain foundation in fact. It was said about five and twenty or thirty years ago that an adventurous trader, hearing from some natives in the territory that lies at the back of Kilimani, the legend of a great treasure buried in or about the 16th century by a party of Portuguese

who were afterwards massacred as a last resource attempted its discovery by the help of a mesmerist. According to this history, the child who was used as a subject in the experiment when in a state of trans, detailed the adventures and death of the unhappy Portuguese men and women, two of whom leapt from the point of a high rock into the Zambezi. Although he knew no tongue but English, this clairvoyant child is declared to have repeated in Portuguese the prayers these unfortunate offered up, and even to have sung the very hymns they sang.

Moreover, with much other detail, he described the burial of the great treasure and its exact situation so accurately that the white man and the mesmerist were able to dig for and find the place where it had been, for the bags were gone, swept out by the floods of the river. Some gold coins remained, however, one of them a dukechus of Aloysius Mochenigo,

Doge of Venice. Afterwards the boy was again thrown into a trance. In all he was mesmerized eight times and revealed where the sacks still lay. But before the white trader could renew his search for them, the party was hunted out of the country by natives whose superstitious fears were aroused, barely escaping with their lives.

It should be added that, as in the following tale, the chief who was ruling there when the tragedy happened, declared the place to be sacred, and that if it were entered, evil would befall his tribe. Thus it came about that for Jekyllis, generations it was never violated, until at length his descendants were driven farther from the river by war, and from some of them the white man heard the legend. End of author's note. Chapter 1 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public

domain. Confidences Beautiful, beautiful was that night. No air stirred, the black smoke from the fire of the mael-steamers Anzibar lay low over the surface of the sea like vast floating ostrich plumes that vanished one by one in the starlight. Benita Beatrix Clifford, for that was her full name, who had been christened Benita after her mother and Beatrix after her father's only sister, leaning idly over the bullock rail, thought to herself that a child might have sailed in that sea in a boat of bark and come safely into port. Then a tall man of about thirty years of age

who was smoking a cigar strolled up to her. At his coming she moved a little as though to make room for him beside her and there was something in the motion which, had anyone been there to observe it, might have suggested that these two were upon terms of friendship or still greater intimacy. For a moment he hesitated,

and while he did so, an expression of doubt, of distress even, gathered on his face. It was as though he understood as a great deal depended upon whether he accepted or declined that gentle invitation and knew not which to do. Indeed, much did depend upon it, no less than the destinies of both of them. If Robert Seymour had gone by to finish his cigar in solitude, why then this story would have had a very different ending? or rather who can say how it might have ended.

The dread for doomed events with which that night was big would have come to its awful birth, leaving certain words unspoken. Violence separation must have ensued, and even if both of them had survived the terror, what prospect was there that their lives would again have crossed each other in that wide Africa? But it was not so fated,

but just as he put his foot forward to continue, his march. Benita spoke in her low and pleasant voice. Are you going to the smoking room or to the saloon to dance, Mr. Seymour? One of the officers just told me that there is to be a dance, she added in explanation, because it is so calm that we might fancy ourselves ashore. Neither, he answered, the smoking room is stuffy, and my dancing days are over. No, I propose to take exercise after that big dinner, and then to sit in a chair and fall asleep. But, he added, and his voice grew interested, how did you know that it was I? You never

turned your head. I have ears in my head as well as eyes, she answered with a little laugh, and after we have been nearly a month together on this ship, I ought to know your step. I never remember that anyone ever recognised it before, he said, more to himself than to her, then came and leaned over the rail at her side. His doubts were gone. Fate had spoken. for a while there was silence between them, then he asked her if she was not going to the dance. Benita shook her head. Why not?

You are fond of dancing, and you dance very well. There are plenty of officers for partners, especially Captain, and he checked himself. I know, she said, it would be pleasant, but Mr. Seymour, will you think me foolish if I tell you something? I have never thought you foolish yet, Miss Clifford, so I don't know why I should.

should begin now. What is it? I'm not going to the dance because I'm afraid. Yes, horribly afraid. Afraid? Afraid? Afraid of what? I don't quite know. But, Mr. Seymour, I feel as though we were all of us upon the edge of some dreadful catastrophe, as though there were about to be a mighty change, and beyond it another life, something new and unfamiliar. It came over me at dinner. That's why I left the table. Quite sudden. I looked, and all the people were different. Yes, all, except a few. Was I different? He asked curiously. No, you were not, and he thought he heard I add. Thank God, beneath her breath. And were you different? I don't know. I never looked at myself. I was the seer, not the scene.

I have always been like that. Indigestion, he said reflectively. We eat too much on board ship. We eat too much on board shit. and the dinner was very long and heavy. I told you so. That's why I'm taking. I mean, why I wanted to take exercise. And to go to sleep afterwards? Yes, first the exercise, then the sleep. Miss Clifford, that is the rule of life and death. With sleep, thought ends.

Therefore, for some of us, your catastrophe is much to be desired, for it would mean long sleep and no thought. I said that they were changed, not that they had ceased to think, perhaps they thought the more. Then let us pray that your catastrophe may be averted. I prescribe for you bismuth and carbonate of soda. Also, in this weather, it seems difficult to imagine such a thing. Luke now, Miss Clifford, he added with a note of enthusiasm in his voice,

pointing towards the east, Luke. Her eyes followed his outstretched hand, and there, above the level ocean, rose the great orb of the African moon. lo, of a sudden, all that ocean turned to silver, a wide path of rippling silver stretched from it to them. It might have been the road of angels. The sweet, soft light beat upon their ship,

showing its tapering masts and every detail of the rigging. It's passed on beyond them and revealed the low foam-fringed coastline, rising here and there, dotted with cloofs and their clinging bush. even the round huts of kaffir kraals became faintly visible in that radiance other things became visible also for instance the features of this pair the man was light in his colouring fair-skinned with fair hair which already showed a tendency towards greyness especially in the moustache for he wore no beard his face was clean cut not particularly handsome since their fineness notwithstanding his features features lacked regularity. The cheekbones were too high, and the chin was too small, faults redeemed to some extent by the steady and cheerful grey eyes. For the rest he was broad

shouldered and well set up, sealed with the indescribable stamp of the English gentleman. Such was the appearance of Robert Seymour. In that light the girl at his side looked lovely, though in fact she had no real claims to loveliness, except perhaps as regards her figure, which was agile, rounded and peculiarly graceful. Her foreign-looking face was unusual, dark-eyed, a somewhat large and very mobile mouth, fair and waving hair, a broad forehead, a sweet and at times wistful face,

thoughtful for the most part, but apt to be irradiated by sudden smiles. Not a beautiful woman at all, but exceedingly attractive, one possessing magnetism. She gazed first at the moon and the same, silver road beneath it, then turning, at the land beyond. "'We are very near to Africa at last,' she said.

"'Too near, I think,' he answered. "'If I were the captain, I should stand out a point or two. "'It is a strange country, full of surprises. "'Miss Clifford, would you think me rude if I asked you why you were going there? "'You have never told me quite.' "'No, because the story is rather a sad one, "'but you shall hear it if you wish, do you?' He nodded and drew up two deck chairs, in which they settled themselves in a corner made by one of the inboard boats.

Their faces still towards the sea. You know, I was born in Africa, she said, and lived there till I was 13 years old. Why, I find that I can still speak Zulu. I did so this afternoon. My father was one of the early settlers in Natal. His father was a clergyman, a younger son of the Lincolnshire Cliffords. "'They are great people there still, "'though I don't suppose they are aware of my existence.' "'I know them,' answered Robert Seymour.

"'Indeed, oddly enough, I was shooting at their place last November "'when the smash came.' "'And he sighed. "'But go on. "'Well, my father quarrelled with his father. "'I don't know what about, and emigrated. "'In Natal he married my mother, "'a Miss Ferrera, whose name like mine and her mother's,

"'was Benita.' She was one of two sisters, and her father, Andreas Ferreira, who married an English lady, was half Dutch and half Portuguese. I remember him well, a fine old man with dark eyes and an eyeing grey beard. He was wealthy as things went in those days, that is to say, he had lots of land in Natal and the Transvaal and great herds of stock. So you see, I am half English, some Dutch, and more than a quarter Portuguese. Quite a mixture. of races. My father and mother did not get on well together. Mr. Seymour, I may as well tell you all the truth. He drank, and although he was passionately fond of her, she was jealous of him. Also,

he gambled away most of her patrimony, and after old Andreas Ferreira's death, they grew poor. One night there was a dreadful scene between them, and in his madness he struck her. well she was a very proud woman determined too and she turned on him and said for i heard her i will never forgive you we have done with each other next morning when my father was sober he begged her pardon but she made no answer although he was starting somewhere on a fortnight's trek when he had gone my mother ordered the cape carts picked up her clothes took some money that she had put away drove to durban and after making arrangements at the bank about a small private income of her own, sailed with me for England, leaving a letter for my father, in which she said that she would never see him again, and if he tried to interfere with me, she would put me under the protection of the English court, which would not allow me to be taken to the home of a drunkard. In England we went to live in London with my aunt, who had married a major king, but was a widow with five children.

my father often wrote to persuade my mother to go back to him but she never would which I think was wrong of her so things went on for twelve years or more till one day my mother died suddenly and I came into her little fortune at between two hundred and three hundred pounds a year which she had tied up so that nobody can touch it that was about a year ago

I wrote to tell my father of her death and received back a pitiful letter indeed I have had several of them he implored me to come out to him and not to leave him to die in his loneliness as he soon would do of a broken heart if I did not he said that he had long ago given up drinking

which was the cause of the ruin of his life and sent a certificate signed by a magistrate and a doctor to that effect well in the end although all my cousins and their mother advised me against it I consent and here I am. He is to meet me at Durban,

but how we shall get on together is more than I can say, though I long to see him, for after all he is my father. It was good of you to come under all the circumstances, you must have a brave heart, said Robert reflectively. It is my duty, she answered, and for the rest I am not afraid who was born to Africa. Indeed, often and often have I wished to be back there again,

out on the veldt far away from the london streets and fog i am young and strong and i want to see things natural things not those made by man you know the things i remember as a child one can always go back to london yes or at least some people can it's a curious thing miss clifford but as it happens i have met your father you always reminded me of the man but i had forgotten his name now it comes back to me it was clifford it was clifford but as it happens i have met your father you always reminded me of the man but i had forgotten his name now it comes back to me it was clifford "'Where on earth?' she asked, astonished. "'In a queer place. "'As I told you, I have visited South Africa before "'under different circumstances. "'Four years ago I was out here big game shooting. "'Going in from the East Coast, my brother and I,

"'he's dead now, poor fellow, "'got up somewhere on the Matabili country, "'on the banks of the Zambizi. "'As we didn't find much game there, "'we were going to strike south "'when some natives told us of a wonderful ruin that stood on a hill overhanging the river a few miles farther on. So, leaving the wagon on the hither side of the steep neck,

over which it would have been difficult to drag it, my brother and I took our rifles and a bag of food and started. The place was farther off than we thought, although from the top of the neck we could see it clearly enough, and before we reached it, dark had fallen. Now we had observed a wagon and a tent outside the wall, which we thought must belong to white men, and headed for them. There was a light in the tent and the flap was open, the night being very hot.

Inside, two men were seated, one old with a grey beard, and the other a good-looking fellow, under forty, I should say, with a Jewish face, dark piercing eyes, and a black pointed beard. They were engaged in examining a heap of gold beads and bangles, which lay on the table between them. as I was about to speak, the black-bearded man heard or caught sight of us, and seizing a rifle that leaned against the table,

swung round and covered me. "'But God's sake, don't shoot, Jacob,' said the old man. "'They're English.' "'Best dead anyway,' answered the other, in a soft voice with a slight foreign accent. "'We don't want spies or thieves here.' "'We are neither, but I can shoot as well as you, friend,' I remarked, for by this time my rifle was on him.

Then he thought better of it, and dropped his gun, and we explained that we were merely on an archaeological expedition. The end of it was that we became capital friends, though neither of us could cotter much to Mr. Jacob. I forget his other name. He struck us as too handy with his rifle, and was, I gathered, an individual with a mysterious and rather lurid past. To cut a long story short,

when he found out that we had no intention of poaching. Your father, for it was he, told us frankly that they were treasure-hunting, having got hold of some story about a vast store of gold, which had been hidden away there by Portuguese two or three centuries before. Their trouble was, however, that the Makalanga, who lived in the fortress, which was called Bambatsi, would not allow them in to dig, because they said the place was haunted, and if they did so, it would bring bad luck to the tribe.

And did they ever get in? Aspeneta. I'm sure I don't know, for we went away next day, though before we left we called on the Makalanga, who admitted us all readily enough, so long as we brought no spades with us. By the way, the gold we saw your father and his friend examining, was found in some ancient graves outside the walls, but had nothing to do with the big and mythical treasure. What was the place like? I love old ruins, broke in Benita again. Oh, wonderful, a gigantic circular wall built by heaven knows who.

Then, halfway up the hill, another wall, and near the top a third wall, which, I understood, surrounded a sort of holy of holies, and above everything on the brink of the precipice, a great cone of granite. Artificial or natural? I don't know. they would not let us up there,

but we were introduced to their chief and high priest, church and state in one, and a wonderful old man he was, very wise and very gentle. I remember he told me that he believed we should meet again, which seemed an odd thing for him to say. I asked him about the treasure and why he would not let the other white men look for it.

He answered that it would never be found by any man, white or black, that only a woman would find it at the appointed time, when it pleased the spirit of Bambatsy, under whose guardianship it was. Who was the spirit of Bambatsy, Mr. Seymour? I can't tell you, couldn't make out anything definite about her, except that she was said to be white and to appear sometimes at sunrise, or in the moonlight, standing upon the tall point of rock, of which I told you.

I remember that I got up before the dawn to look for her, like an idiot, for of course I saw nothing, and that's all I know. about the matter. Did you have any talk with my father, Mr. Seymour? Alone, I mean. Yes, a little. The next day he walked back to our wagon with us, being glad I fancy of a change from the perpetual society of his partner Jacob. That wasn't wonderful in a man who had been brought up at Eton and Oxford, as I found out he had, like myself, and whatever his failings may have been, although we saw no sign of them, for he would not touch a drop of spirits, was a gentleman which Jacob wasn't.

Still, he, Jacob, had read a lot, especially on out-of-the-way subjects, and could talk every language under the son, a clever and agreeable scoundrel in short. Did my father say anything about himself? Yes, he told me that he had been an unsuccessful man all his life, and had much to reproach himself with, for he got quite confidential at last.

He added that he had had a family in England, what family he didn't say, whom he was anxious to make wealthy by way of reparation for past misdeeds, and that was why he was treasure-hunting. However, from what you tell me, I fear he never found anything. No, Mr. Seymour, he never found it, and never will. But all the same, I am glad to hear that he was thinking of us. Also, I should like to explore that place, Bambatsy.

So should I, Miss Clifford, in your company and your father's, but not in that of Jacob. If ever you should go there with him, I say, beware of Jacob. Oh, I'm not afraid of Jacob, she answered with a laugh, although I believe that my father still has something to do with him. At least in one of his letters, he mentioned his partner, who was a German. A German? I think that he must have meant a German Jew. After this there was silence between them for a time.

Then he said suddenly, You have told me your story. Would you like to hear my mind? "'Yes,' she answered. "'Well, it won't take you long to listen to it, "'for, Miss Clifford, like Canning's needy knife-grinder, "'I have really none to tell. "'You see before you one of the most useless persons in the world, "'an undistinguished member of what is called in England

"'the leisured class, who can do absolutely nothing "'that is worth doing except shoot straight.' "'Indeed,' said Benita, "'you do not seem impressed with that accomplishment. He went on, yet it is an honest fact that for the last 15 years, I was 32 this month, practically my whole time has been given up to it, with a little fishing thrown in in the spring. As I want to make the most of myself,

I will add that I am supposed to be amongst the six best shots in England, and that my ambition, yes, great heavens, my ambition, was to become better than the other five. By that sin fell the poor man who speaks to you. I was supposed to have abilities, but I neglected them all to pursue this form of idleness. I entered no profession, I did no work, with the results that at 32 I am ruined and almost hopeless. Why ruined and hopeless? she asked anxiously, for the way in which they were spoken grieved her more than the words themselves. Ruined because my old uncle, the Honourable John Seymour Seymour, whose heir I was, committed the

discretion of marrying a young lady who has presented him with thriving twins. With the appearance of those twins my prospects disappeared, as did the allowance of £1,500 a year that he was good enough to make me on which to keep up a position as he's next of kin. I had something of my own, but also I had debts, and at the present moment a draft in my pocket for £2,163, £14 shillings and fivepence, and a little loose cash, represent the total of my worldly goods, just about the sum I have been accustomed to spend for annum. I don't call that ruin, I call that riches, said Benita, relieved. With two thousand pounds to begin on, you may make a fortune in Africa, but how about the

hopelessness? I am hopeless because I have absolutely nothing to which to look forward. Really, when that two thousand pounds is gone, I do not know how to earn. I do not know how to earn a sixpence. In this dilemma, it occurred to me that the only thing I could do was to turn my shooting to practical account and become a hunter of big game. Therefore, I proposed to kill elephants until an elephant kills me. At least, he added in a changed voice, I did so propose until half an hour ago. End of chapter one. Chapter 2 of the spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The end of the Zanzibar. Until half an hour ago, then why? And Benita stopped. Have I changed my very modest scheme of life?

Miss Clifford, as you are so good to be sufficiently interested, I will tell you. It is because a temptation which hitherto I have been able to resist has during the last 30 minutes become too strong for me. You know, everything has its breaking strain. He buffed nervously at his cigar, threw it into the sea. Pause, then went on. Miss Clifford, I have dared to fall in love with you. No, hear me out. When I have done, it will be quite time enough to give me the answer that I expect.

Meanwhile, for the first time in my life, allow me the luxury of being in earnest. To me, it is a new sensation, and therefore very priceless. May I go on? Benita made no answer. he rose with a certain deliberateness which characterized all his movements, for Robert Seymour never seemed to be in a hurry, and stood in front of her so that the moonlight shone upon her face, while his own remained in shadow.

Beyond that two thousand pounds of which I have spoken, and, incidentally its owner, I have nothing whatsoever to offer you. I am an indigent and a worthless person. Even in my prosperous days when I could look forward to a large estate, although it was often suggested to me, I never considered myself justified in asking any lady to share the prospective estate. I think now that the real reason was

that I never cared sufficiently for any lady, since otherwise my selfishness would probably have overcome my scruples, as it does tonight. Benita, for I will call you so, if for the first and last time, I, I love you. Listen now, he went on,

dropping his measured manner and speaking hurriedly like a man with an earnest message and little time in which to deliver it it is an odd thing an incomprehensible thing but true true i fell in love with you the first time i saw your face you remember you stood there leaning over the bullock when i came on board at southampton and as i walked up the gangway i looked and my eyes met yours then i stopped and that stout old lady who got off at madeira bumped into it me and asked me to be good enough to make up my mind if i were going backward or forward do you remember yes she answered in a low voice which things are an allegory he continued i felt it so at the time yes i had half a mind to answer backward and give up my berth in this ship then i looked at you again and something inside of me said forward so i came up the rest of the gangway and took off my hat to you a salutation i had no right to me to me make, but which, I recall, you acknowledged. He paused, then continued, as it began, so it has gone on. It is always like that, is it not. The beginning is everything, the end must follow. And now it has come out, as I was fully determined that it should not do half an hour

ago, when suddenly you developed eyes in the back of your head, and, oh, dearest, I love you. No, please be quiet, I have not done. I have told you what I am, and really there isn't much much more. more to say about me, for I have no particular vices, except the worst of them all, idleness, and not the slightest trace of any virtue that I can discover. But I have a certain knowledge of the world acquired in a long course of shooting parties, and, as a man of the world, I will venture to give you a bit of advice. It is possible that to you, my life and death affair is a mere matter of boredship amusement, yet it is possible also that you might take

another view of the matter. In that case, as a friend and a man of the world, I entreat you, don't, have nothing to do with me. Send me about my business. You will never regret it. Are you making fun? There is all this meant, Mr Seymour, asked Benita, still speaking beneath her breath and looking straight before her. Meds? Of course it is meant. How can you ask? Because I have always understood that on such occasions people wish to make the best of them themselves. Quite so, but I never do what I ought, a fact for which I am grateful now that I come to think of it, since otherwise I should not be here tonight. I wish to make the worst of myself the very worst, for whatever I am not, at least I am honest. Now, having told you that I am,

or was half an hour ago, an idler, a good-for-nothing, prospectless failure, I ask you, if you care to hear any more. She half rose and glancing at her, him for the first time saw his face contract itself and turn pale in the moonlight. It may be that the sight of it affected her, even to the extent of removing some adverse impression, left by the bitter mocking of his self-blame. At any rate, Anita seemed to change her mind and sat down again saying, Go on, if you wish. He bowed slightly and said, I thank you, I've told you what I was half an hour ago, now, hoping that you will believe, me I will tell you what I am. I am a truly repentant man, one upon whom a new light has risen.

I am not very old and I think that underneath it all I have some ability. Opportunity may still come my way. If it does not, for your sake I will make the opportunity. I do not believe that you can ever find anyone who would love you better or care for you more tenderly. I desire to live for you in the future, more completely even than in the past I have lived for myself. I do not wish to influence you by personal appeals, but in fact I stand at the parting of the ways. If you will give yourself to me, I feel as though I might still become a husband of whom you could be proud. If not, I write finisps upon the tombstone of the possibilities of Robert Seymour. I adore you. You are the one woman with whom I desire.

to pass my days. It is you who have always been lacking to my life. I ask you to be brave, to take the risk of marrying me, although I can see nothing but poverty ahead of us, for I am an adventurer. Don't speak like that, she said quickly. We are all of us adventurers in this world, and I more than you. We have just to consider ourselves, not what we have or have not. So be it, Miss Clifford, then I have nothing more to say. now it is for you to answer just then the sound of the piano and the fiddle in the saloon ceased one of the waltzes was over and some of the dancers came upon deck to flirt or to cool themselves one pair engaged very obviously in the former occupation stationed themselves so near to robert and benita that further conversation between them was impossible and there proceeded to interchange the remarks common to such occasions for a good ten minutes did they stand thus carrying on a mock quarrel as to a dance of which one of them was supposed to have been defrauded until robert seymour generally a very philosophical person could have slain those innocent lovers

he felt he knew not why that his chances were slipping away from him that sensation of something bad about to happen of which benita had spoken spread from her to him the suspense grew exasperating terror even, nor could it be ended. To ask her to come elsewhere was, under the circumstances, not feasible, especially as he would also have been obliged to request the other pair to make way for them. And all this time, with a sinking

of the heart, he felt that probably Benita was beating down any tenderness which he might feel towards him, that when her long-delayed answer did come, chances were it would be no. The piano began to play again in the saloon, and the young people still squabbling archly at length prepared to depart suddenly there was a stir upon the bridge and against the tender sky robert saw a man dash forward

next instant the engine-room bell rang fiercely he knew the signal it was stop followed at once by other ringings that meant full speed astern i wonder what is up said the young man to the young woman before the words had left his lips they knew there was a The sensation, as though all the hull of the great ship, had come to a complete standstill, while the top part of her continued to travel forward, followed by another sensation, still more terrible and sickening in its nature, that of slipping over something, helplessly, heavily, as a man slips upon ice or a polished floor. Spars cracked, ropes flew in too, with a noise as of pistol shots. heavy objects rushed about the deck, travelling forwards all of them.

Benita was hurled from her chair against Robert, so that the two of them rolled into the scuppers. He was unhurt and picked himself up, but she lay still, and he saw that something has struck her upon the head, but blood was running down her cheek. He lifted her, and filled with black horror and despair, for he thought her gone, pressed his hand upon her heart. Thank God it began to beat again. She still lived. The music in the saloon had stopped,

and for a little while there was silence. Then, of an instant, there arose the horrible clamour of shipwreck. Wild-eyed people rushed to and fro aimlessly. Here and there, women and children shrieked. Clergymen fell upon his knees and began to pray. This went on for a space, till presently the second officer appeared, and, affecting an unconcerned air called out that it was all right the captain said no one was to be afraid he added that they were not more than six miles from the shore and that the ship would be beached in half an hour indeed as he spoke the engines which had been stopped commenced to work again and her head swung round in a wild circle pointing to the land evidently they had passed over the rock and were once more in deep water through which the they travelled at a good speed, but with a heavy list to starboard. Pumps got to work also with a monotonous clanging beat,

throwing out great columns of foaming water onto the oily sea. Men began to cut the covers off the boats and to swing some of them outboard. Such were the things that went on about them. With the senseless Benita clasped to his breast, the blood from her cut head running down his shoulder, Robert stood still a while thinking. Then he made up his mind. As it chanced, she had a deck cabin,

and thither he forced his way, carrying her tenderly and with patience through the distracted throng of passengers, for there were 500 souls on board that ship. He reached the place to find that it was quite empty, her cabin mate having fled. Laying Benita upon the lower bunk, he lit the swinging candle.

As soon as it burned up, he searched for the light. belts and by good fortune found two of them one of which not without great difficulty he succeeded in fastening round her then he took a sponge and bathed her head with water there was a great bruise upon her temple where the block or whatever it was had struck her and the blood still flowed but the wound was not very deep or extensive nor so far as he could discover did the bone appear to be broken or driven in he had good hope that she was only stunned and would revive presently. Unable to do more for her, her thought struck him. On the floor of the cabin, thrown by the shock from the rack, lay her writing case. He opened it, and taking a piece of paper, wrote these words hurriedly in pencil. You gave me no answer, and it is more than probable that I shall receive none in this world, which one or both of us may

be upon the verge of leaving. In the latter case we can settle the matter elsewhere, perhaps. In the former, should it be my lot to go and yours to stay, I hope that you will think kindly of me at times, as of one who loved you truly. Should it be yours to go, then you will never read these words, yet, if to the dead is given knowledge, be assured that as you left me, so you shall find me, yours and yours alone, or perhaps we both may live, I pray so, S-R-S. folding up the paper he undid a button of Benita's blouse and thrust it away there, knowing that thus she would certainly find it should she survive, then he stepped out onto the deck to see what was happening.

The vessel still steamed but made slow progress. Moreover, the list of starboard was now so pronounced that it was difficult to stand upright. On account of it, nearly all the passengers were huddled together upon the port side, having instinctively taken refuge as far as possible above the water. A man with a white distraught face staggered towards him, supporting himself by the bullocks. It was the captain.

For a moment he paused as though to think, holding to a stanchion. Robert Seymour saw his opportunity and addressed him. Forgive me, he said. I do not like interfering with other people's business, but for reasons unconnected with myself, I suggest to you that it would be wise to stop this ship and get out the boats. The sea is calm. If it is not left till too late, there should

be no difficulty in launching them. The man stared at him absently, then said, They won't hold everybody, Mr Seymour. I hope to beat her. At least they will hold some, he answered. Whereas, and he pointed to the water, which was by now almost level with the deck. Perhaps you are right, Mr. Seymour, it doesn't matter to me anyway, I am a ruined man, but the poor passengers, the poor passengers! And he scrambled away fiercely towards the bridge like a wounded cat along the bow of a tree. Once in a few seconds Robert heard him shouting orders.

A minute or so afterwards the steamer stopped. Too late the captain had decided to sacrifice his ship and save those she carried. Now they were beginning to get out the boats. Now Robert returned to the cabin where Benita was still lying senseless and wrapped her up in a cloak and some blankets. Then, seeing the second life-belt on the floor, by an afterthought he put it on,

knowing that there was time to spare. Next he lifted Benita, and feeling sure that the rush would be for the starboard side, on which the boats were quite near the water, carried her with difficulty, for the slope was steep, to the port cutter, which he knew would be in the charge of a good man,

the second officer, whom he had seen in command there at Sunday boat drills. Here, as he had anticipated, the crowd was small, since most people thought that it would not be possible to get this boat down safely to the water, or, if their powers of reflection were gone, instinct told them so. That skilful seaman, the second officer and his appointed crew, however, were already at work, lowering the cutter from the Davitz. Now, he said, women and children first. A number rushed in, and Robert, saw that the boat would soon be full.

I'm afraid, he said, that I must count myself as a woman as I carry one, and by a great effort, holding Benita with one arm, with the other he let himself down the falls, and, assisted by a quartermaster, gained the boat in safety. One or two other men scrambled after him. Lower away, said the officer, she can hold no more, and the ropes began to creak in the blocks. when they were about twelve feet down the ship's side from which they thrust themselves clear with oars there came a rush of people disappointed of places in the starboard boats

a few of the boldest of these swarm down the falls others jumped and fell among them or missed and dropped into the sea or struck upon the sides of the boat and were killed still she reached the water upon an even keel though now much overladen the oars were got out and they rode round the bow of the great ship wallowing in her death-throes, their first idea being to make for the shore, which was not three miles away. This brought them to the starboard side, where they saw a hideous scene. Hundreds of people seemed to be fighting for room, with the results that some of the boats were overturned, precipitating their occupants into the water. Others hung by the prow or the stern, the ropes having jammed in the davits and the frantic haste and confusion, while from them human beings dropped one by one.

Round others not yet launched, a hellish struggle was in progress, the struggle of men, women and children battling for their lives, in which the strong, mad with terror, showed no mercy to the weak. For that mass of humanity, most of them about to perish, went of a babel of sounds, which in its sum shaped itself to one prolonged scream, such as might proceed from a titan in his agony, all this beneath the brooding moonlit sky, and on a sea as smooth as glass. Upon the ship itself, which now lay upon her side,

the siren still sent up its yells for succour, and some brave man continued to fire rockets, which rushed heavenwards and burst in showers of stars. Robert remembered that the last rocket he had seen was fired at an evening fate for the amusement of the audience. The contrast struck him as dreadful. He wondered whether there were any lower or infernal population that could be amused by a tragedy such as enacted itself before his eyes.

How it came about also that such a tragedy was permitted by the merciful strength in which mankind put their faith. The vessel was turning over. Compressed air or steam burst up the deck, with loud reports. Fragments of wreckage flew into the air. There the poor captain still clung to the rail of the bridge. Seymour could see his white face.

The moonlight seemed to paint it with a ghastly smile. The officer in command of their boat shouted to the crew to give way lest they should be sucked down with the steamer. Look! Now she wallowed like a dying wail. The moon rays shone white upon her bottom, showing the jagged rent made in it by the rock on which she struck, and now she was gone. Only a little cloud of smoke and steam remained to mark where the Zanzibar had been. End of Chapter 2

Chapter 3 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. How Robert Came ashore In place of the Zanzibar, a great pit on the face of the ocean, in which the waters boiled, and black objects appeared and disappeared. "'Sit still for your lives' sake,' said the officer in a quiet voice. "'The suck is coming.' In another minute it came, dragging them downward till the water trickled over the sides of the boat

and backward towards the pit. But before ever they reached it, the deep had digested its prey, and, save for the great air bubbles which burst about them, and a mixed unnatural swell was calm again. For the moment they were safe. Passengers, said the officer, I'm going to put out to sea, at any rate till daylight, we may meet a vessel there,

and if we try to row ashore, we shall certainly be swamped in the breakers. No one objected. They seemed too stunned to speak, but Robert thought to himself that the man was wise. They began to move, but before they had gone a dozen yards, something dark rose beside them. It was a piece of wreckage, and clinging to it a woman who clasped a bundle to her breast. More she was alive, for she began to cry to them to take her in. "'Save me and my child!' she cried. "'For God's sake, save me!' Robert recognized the choking voice.

It was that of a young married lady with whom he had been very friendly, who was going out with her baby to join her husband in Natal. He stretched out his hand and caught hold of her, whereon the officer said heavily, The boat is already overladen. I must warn you that to take more on board is not safe. Thereon the passengers awoke from their stupor. Push her off, said a voice.

She must take a chance, and there was a murmur of approval at the dreadful words. For Christ's sake, for Christ's sake! wailed the drowning woman, who clung desperately to Robert's son. hand. If you try to pull her in we will throw you overboard, said the voice again, and a knife was lifted, as though to hackett his arm. Then the officer spoke once more. This lady cannot come into the boat unless someone goes out of it. I would myself, but it's my duty to stay. Is there any

man here who will make place for her? But all the men there, seven of them, besides the crew, hung their heads and were silent. Give way, said the officer, in the the same heavy voice, she will drop off presently. While the words passed his lips, Robert seemed to live a year. Here was an opportunity of atonement for his idle and luxurious life. An hour ago he would have taken it gladly, but now, now, with Benita senseless on his breast, and that answer still locked in her sleeping heart. Yet Benita would approve of such a death as this, and even if she loved him not in life,

would learn to love his memory. In an instant his mind was made up and he was speaking rapidly. Thompson, he said to the officer, if I go, will you swear to take her in and her child? Certainly, Mr. Seymour. Then lay too, I am going. If any of you live, tell this lady how I died.

And he pointed to Benita and say I thought that she would wish it. She shall be told, said the officer again, and save too if I can do. it. Hold Mrs. Jeffries then till I am out of this. I'll leave my coat to cover her. A sailor obeyed, and with difficulty Robert wrenched free his hand. Very deliberately, he pressed Benita to his breast and kissed her on the forehead, then let her gently slide on to the bottom of the boat. Next he slipped off his overcoat and slowly rolled himself

over the gunwale into the sea. Now, he said, pull Mrs. Jeffries in. With some difficulty it was done, and he saw her and her child sink swooning into the place that he had left. "'God bless you! You're a brave man,' said Thompson. "'I shall remember you if I live a hundred years.' "'No one else said anything. Perhaps they were all too much ashamed, even then. "'I've only done my duty,' Seymour answered from the water. "'How far is it to shore?' "'About three miles,' shouted Thompson.

"'But keep on that plank a you. will never live through the rollers. Good-bye, good-bye, answered Robert. Then the boat passed away from him and soon vanished on the misty face of the deep. Resting on the plank which had saved the life of Mrs. Jeffries, Robert Seymour looked about him and listened. Now and again he heard a faint, choking scream uttered by some drowning wretch, and a few hundred yards away caught sight of a black object, which he thought might be a boat. If so, he reflected that it must be full.

Moreover, he could not overtake it. No, his only chance was to make for the shore. He was a strong swimmer, and happily the water was almost as warm as milk. There seemed to be no reason why he should not reach it, supported as he was by a life-belt, if the sharks would leave him alone, which they might, as there was plenty for them to feed on.

the direction he knew well enough for now in the great silence of the sea he could hear the boom of the mighty rollers breaking on the beach ah those rollers he remembered how that very afternoon benita and he had watched them through his field-glass spouting up against the cruel walls of rock and wondered that when the ocean was so calm they still had such power now should he live to reach them he was doomed to match himself against that power. Well, the sooner he did so, the sooner it would be over, one way or the other. This was in his favour. The tide had turned and was flowing shorewards. Indeed, he had little to do but to rest upon his plank, which he placed crosswise beneath his breast, and steer himself with his feet. Even thus he made good progress, nearly a mile an hour perhaps. He could have gone faster had he swum, but he was saving his strength. it was a strange journey upon that silent sea beneath those silent stars and strange thoughts came into robert's soul he wondered whether benita would live and what she would say perhaps however she was already dead and he would meet her presently

he wondered if he were doomed to die and whether this sacrifice of his would be allowed to atone for his past errors he hoped so had put up a petition to that effect for himself and for benita and for for all the poor people who had gone before hurled from their pleasure into the halls of death. So he floated on while the boom of the breakers grew ever nearer, companioned by his wild, fitful thoughts, till at length what he took to be a shark appeared quite close to him, and in the urgency of the moment he gave up wondering. It proved to be only a piece of wood, but later on a real shark did come, for he saw its back fin,

however this cruel creature was either gorged or timid for when he splashed upon the water and shouted it went away to return no more now at length robert entered upon the deep hill and valley swell which preceded the field of the rollers suddenly he shot down a smooth slope and without effort of his own found himself borne up an opposing steep from the crest of which he had a view of white lines of foam and beyond them have a dim and rocky shore at one spot a little to his right the foam seemed thinner and the line of cliff to be broken as though here there was a cleft for this cleft then he steered his plank taking the swell obliquely which by good fortune the set of the tide enabled him to do without any great exertion the valleys grew deeper and the tops of the opposing ridges were crested with foam he had entered the rollers and the struggle for life began. Before him they rushed solemnly and mighty. Viewed from some safe place, even the sight of these comers is terrible, as any who have watched them from this coast or from that of the island of ascension can bear witness. What their aspect was to this shipwrecked man, supported by a single plank, may therefore be imagined, seen as he saw them,

in the mysterious moonlight and in utter loneliness. Yet his spirit rose to meet the dread emergency. If he were to die, he would die fighting. He had grown cold and tired, but now the chill and weariness left him. He felt warm and strong. From the crest of one of the high rollers he thought he saw that about half a mile away from him,

a little river ran down the centre of the gorge, and for the mouth of this river he laid his course. At first all went well. He was born up the seas, he slid down the seas in a lather of white foam. Presently the rise and fall grew steeper, and the foam began to break over his head. Robert could no longer guide himself.

He must go as he was carried. Then, in an instant, he entered into a hell of waters, where, had it not been to? for his life-belt and the plank, he must have been beaten down and have perished. As it was, now he was driven into the depths,

and now he emerged upon their surface to hear their seething hiss around him, and above it all, a continuous boom as of great guns, the boom of the breaking seas. The plank was almost twisted from his grasp, but he clung to it desperately, although its edges tore his arms.

When the rolander, as broke over him, he held his breath, and when he was tossed skywards on their curves, drew it in again in quick, sweet gasps. Now he sat on the very brow of one of them as a merman might. Now he dived like a dolphin, and now, just as his senses were leaving him,

his feet touched bottom. Another moment, and Robert was being rolled along that bottom with a weight on him like the weight of mountains. The plank was rent-frored, from him but his cork jacket brought him up the backwash drew him with it into deeper water where he lay helpless and despairing for he no longer had any strength to struggle against his doom then it was that there came a mighty roller bigger than any that he had seen such a one as on that coast the kaffirs call a father of waves it caught him in the embrace of its vast green curve it bore him forward as though he were but a straw, far forward over the stretch of cruel rocks. It broke in thunder, dashing him again upon the stones and sand of that little river bar, rolling him along with its resistless might,

till even that might was exhausted and its foam began to return seawards, sucking him with it. Robert's mind was almost gone, but enough of it remained to tell him that if once more he was dragged into the deep water, he must be lost. As the current hailed him along, he gripped at the bottom with his hands, and by the mercy of heaven they closed on something. It may have been a tree stump embedded there, or a rock he never knew. At least it was firm, and to it he hung despairingly. Would that rush never go by? His lungs were bursting, he must let go. Oh, the foam was thinning, his head was above it, now it had departed, leaving him like a stranded fish upon the shingle. For half a minute or more he lay there gasping, then looked behind him to see another coma

approaching through the gloom. He struggled to his feet, fell, rose again, and ran, or rather staggered forward with that tigerish water hissing at his heels. Forward, still forward, till he was beyond its reach, yes, on dry sand. Then his vital forces failed him. One of his legs gave way, and bleeding from a hundred hurts, he fell heavily onto his face, and there was still.

The boat in which Benita lay, being so deep in the water, proved very hard to row against the tide, for the number of its passengers encumbered the oarsmen. After a while, a light off-land breeze sprang up, as here it often does towards morning, and the officer Thompson determined to risk hoisting the sail, accordingly this was done with some difficulty, for the mast had to be drawn out and shipped, although the women screamed as the weight of the air bent their frail craft over,

till the gunwale was almost level with the water. "'Anyone who moves shall be thrown overboard,' said the officer, who steered, after which they were quiet. Now they made good progress seawards, but the anxieties of those who knew were very great, since the wind showed signs of rising, and if any swell should spring up, that crowded cutter could scarcely hope to live.

In fact, two hours later they were forced to lower the sail again and drift, waiting for the dawn. Mr. Thompson strove to cheer them, saying that now they were in the truce, of vessels, and if they could see none when the light came, he would run along the shore in hope of finding a place free of breakers where they might land. If they did not inspire hope, at least his words calmed them, and they sat in heavy silence, watching the sky.

Atlantic grew grey, and then, with a sudden glory peculiar to South Africa, the great red sun arose and began to dispel the mist from the surface of the sea. Half an hour more and this was gone, and now the bright rays brought life back into their chilled frames as they stared at each other to see which of their company were still left alive. They even asked for food, and biscuits was given to them with water. All this while Benita remained unconscious. Indeed, one callous fellow who had been using her body as a footstool,

said that she must be dead and had better be thrown overboard as it would lighten the boat if you throw that lady into the sea living or dead said mr thompson with an ominous lift of his eye you go with her mr batten remember who brought her here and how he died then mr batten held his peace while thompson stood up and scanned the wide expanse of sea presently he whispered to a sailor near him who also stood up luke and nodded. That will be the other lines intermediate boat, he said, and the passengers, craning their heads round, saw far away to the right a streak of smoke upon the horizon. Orders were given, a little corner of sail was hoisted with a white cloth of some sort tied above it,

and the oars were got out. Once more the cutter moved forward, bearing to the left in the hope of intercepting the steamer. She came on with terrible swiftness, and they who had miles of water to cover dared hoist no more sail in that breeze. In half an hour she was nearly opposite to them, and they were still far away. A little more sail was let out, driving them through the water at as quicker rate as they could venture to go. The steamer was passing three miles or so away, and black despair took hold of them.

now the resourceful Thompson, without apologies, undressed, and removing the white shirt that he had worn at the dance, bade a sailor tie it to an oar and wave it to and fro. Still the steamer went on, until presently they heard her siren going, and saw that she was putting about. "'She's seen us,' said Thompson. "'Thank God all of you, for there is wind coming up. Pull down that sail, we shan't need it anymore.'

half an hour later with many precautions for the wind he prophesied was already troubling the sea and sending little splashes of water over the stern of their deeply laden boat they were fast to a line thrown from the deck of the three thousand ton steamer castle bound for natal then with a rattle down came the accommodation ladder and strong-armed men standing on its grating dragged them one by one from the death to which they had had been so near the last to be lifted up except thompson was benita round whom it was necessary to reeve a rope any use asked the officer on the grating as he glanced at her quiet form can't say i hope so answered thompson call your doctor and gently enough she was borne up the ship's side they wanted to cast off the boat but thompson remonstrated and in the end that also was dragged to-day and that also was dragged to-day and deck. Meanwhile, the news had spread, and the awakened passengers of the castle, clad in pyjamas, dressing-gowns, and even blankets, were crowding round the poor castaways, or helping them to their cabins. "'I'm a teetotler,' said Second Officer Thompson, when he had made a brief report to the captain

of the castle, but if anyone will stand me a whiskey and soda, I shall be obliged to him." End of Chapter 3. Chapter 4 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Mr Clifford Although the shock of the blow she had received upon her head was sufficient to make her insensible for so many hours, Benita's injuries were not of a really serious nature.

For as it happened, the falling block, or whatever it may have been, had hit her forehead slantwise and not full, to which accident she owed it that although her skin was torn and the scalp bruised, her skull had escaped fracture. Under proper medical care, her senses soon came back to her, but as she was quite dazed and thought herself still on board the Zanzibar, the doctor considered it wise to preserve her in that illusion for a while. So after she had swallowed some broth, he gave her a sleeping draft,

the effects of which she did not shake off till the following morning. Then she came to herself completely and was astonished to feel the pain in her head, which had been bandaged, and to see a strange stewardess sitting by her with a cup of beef tea in her hand. "'Where am I? Is it a dream?' she asked. "'Drink this and I will tell you,' answered the stewardess. Benita obeyed, for she felt hungry, then repeated her question. "'Your steamer was shipwrecked,' said the stewardess, "'and a great many poor people were drowned, but you were saved in a boat.

"'Look, there are your clothes. They were never in the water.' "'Who carried me into the boat?' asked Benita, in a low voice. "'A gentleman, they say, miss, who had wrapped you in a blanket and put her life-belt on you.' Now Benita remembered everything that had happened before the darkness fell, the question to which she had given no answer, the young couple who stood flirting by her, all came back to her. "'Was Mr. Seymour saved?' she whispered. her face grey with dread.

I dare say, miss, answered the stewardess evasively, but there is no gentleman of that name aboard this ship. At that moment the doctor came in, and him too she plied with questions. But having learned the story of Robert's self-sacrifice for Mr Thompson and others, he would give her no answer, for he guessed how matters had stood between them

and feared the effects of the shock. All he could say was that he hoped Mr. Seymour had escaped in some other boat. It was not until the third morning that Benita was allowed to learn the truth, which, indeed, it was impossible to conceal any longer. Mr Thompson came to her cabin and told her everything, while she listened silently, horrified, amazed.

Miss Clifford, he said, I think it was one of the bravest things that a man ever did. On the ship I always thought him a rather head in the air kind of swell, but he was a splendid. "'and I pray God that he has lived, "'as the lady and child for whom he offered himself up have done. "'But they are both well again.' "'Yes,' she repeated after him mechanically,

"'splendid fellow indeed, and,' she added with a strange flash of conviction, "'I believe that he is still alive. "'If he were dead, I should know it.' "'I'm glad to hear you say so,' said Mr. Thompson, "'who believed the exact contrary.' "'Listen,' she went on, I will tell you something. When that dreadful accident occurred, Mr. Seymour had just asked me to marry him, and I was going to answer that I would, because I love him. I believe that I shall still give him that answer.

Mr. Thompson replied again that he hoped so, which, being as honest and tender-hearted as he was brave and capable, he did most earnestly. But in his heart he reflected that her answer would not be given this side of the grave. then, as he had been deputed to do, he handed her the note which had been found in the bosom of her dress, and, able to bear no more of this painful scene, hurried from the cabin. She read it greedily twice, and pressed it to her lips, murmuring, Yes, I will think kindly of you, Robert Seymour, kindly as woman can of man, and now or afterwards you shall have your answer, if you still wish for it. whenever you come or wherever I go, it should be ready for you. That afternoon, when she was more composed, Mrs. Jeffries came to see Benita, bringing her baby with her.

The poor woman was still pale and shaken, but the child had taken no hurt at all from its immersion in that warm water. "'What can you think of me?' she said, falling on her knees by Benita. "'But, oh, I did not know what I was doing. It was terror and my child, and she kissed the sleeping infants passionately. Also I did not understand at the time. I was two days.

And that hero, he gave his life for me when the others wished to beat me off with wars. Yes, his blood is upon my hands. He who died that I and my child might live. Benita looked at her and answered very gently. Perhaps he did not die after all. Do not grieve, for if he did it was a very glorious death. and I am prouder of him than I could have been had he lived on like the others,

who wished to beat you off with oars. Whatever is is by God's will, and doubtless for the best. At the least you and your child will be restored to your husband, though it cost me one who would have been my husband. That evening Benita came up upon the deck and spoke with the other ladies who were saved, learning every detail that she could gather, but to none of the men, except to Mr. Thompson, would she say a-a-same,

single word, and soon, seeing how the matter stood, they hid themselves away from her, as they had already done for Mrs. Jeffries. The castle had hung about the scene of the shipwreck for for thirty hours, and rescued one other boatload of survivors, also a stoker clinging to a piece of wreckage, but with the shore she had been unable to communicate, for the dreaded wind had risen, and the breakers were quite impassable to any boat. To a passing steamer bound for Port Elizabeth however, she had reported the terrible disaster, which by now was known all over the world, together with the names of those whom she had picked up in the boats. On the night of the day of Benita's interview with Mrs. Jeffries,

the castle arrived off Durban and anchored, since she was too big a vessel to cross the bar as it was in those days. At dawn the stewardess awoke Benita from the uneasy sleep in which she lay to tell her that an old gentleman had come off in the tug and wished to see her. For fear of exciting false hopes, she was very careful to add that word old. With her help, Benita dressed herself, and as the sun rose, flooding the barria, the point, the white town and fair natal beyond with light, she went on to the deck and saw there, leaning over the bullock,

a thin, grey-bearded man, of whom, after all these years, the aspect was still familiar. A curious thrill went through her as she looked at him leaning there lost in thought. After all, he was her father, the man to whom she owed her presence upon this bitter earth, this place of terrors and delights, of devastation and hope supernal. Perhaps too he had been as much sinned against as sinning. She stepped up to him and touched him on the shoulder. Father, she said, he turned round with all the quickness of a young man, for about him there was a peculiar agility which his daughter had inherited. Like his mind, his mind, his body was still nimble.

My darling, he said, I should have known your voice anywhere. It has haunted my sleep for years. My darling, thank you for coming back to me, and thank God for preserving you when so many were lost. Then he threw his arms about her and kissed her. She shrank from him a little, for by inadvertence he had pressed upon the wound in her forehead.

Forgive me, she said. It is my head. It was injured. you know? Then he saw the bandage about her brow and was very penitent. They did not tell me that you'd been hurt, Benita, he exclaimed in his light, refined voice, one of the stamps of that gentility of blood and breeding, whereof all his rough years and errors had been unable to deprive him. They only told me that you were saved. It is part of my ill-fortune,

that at our first moment of meeting I should give you pain, who have caused you so much already. benita felt that the words were an apology for the past and her heart was touched it is nothing she answered you did not know or mean it no dear i never knew or meant it believe me i was not a willing sinner only a weak one you are a beautiful woman benita far more so than i expected what she answered smiling with this bandage round my head well in your eyes perhaps but inwardly she thought to herself that the description would be more applicable to her father who in truth notwithstanding his years was wonderfully handsome with his quick blue eyes mobile face gentle mouth with the wistful droop at the corners so like her own and grey beard how she wondered could this be the man who had struck her mother then she remembered him as he had been years before when he was a slave to liquor and knew that the answer was simple tell me about your escape love he said patting her hand with his thin fingers you don't know what i have suffered i was waiting at the royal hotel here when the cable came announcing the loss of the zanzibar and all on board for the first time for many a year i drank spirits to drown my grief.

Don't be afraid, dear, for the first time and the last. Then afterwards came another gable giving the names of those who were known to be saved, and, thank God, oh, thank God, yours among them. He gasped at the recollection of that relief. Yes, she said, I suppose I should thank him and another. Have you heard the story about how Mr. Seymour saved me, I mean? Some of it. while you were dressing yourself, I have been talking to the officer who was in command of your boat.

He was a brave man, Benita, and I'm sorry I must tell you he is gone. She grasped a stanchion and clung there, staring at him with a wild white face. How do you know that, father? Mr Clifford drew a copy of the Natal Mercury of the previous day from the pocket of his ulster, and while she waited in an agony, he hunted through the long columns descriptive of the loss of the Zanzibar. presently he came to the paragraph he sought and read it aloud to her. It ran. The searchers on the coast opposite the scene of the shipwreck reports that they met a kaffir who was travelling along the seashore

who produced a gold watch which he said he had taken from the body of a white man that he found lying on the sand at the mouth of the Unvoli River. Inside the watch is engraved to Seymour Robert Seymour from his uncle on his 21st birthday. The name of Mr Seymour appears as a first-class passenger to Durban by the steamer Zanzibar. He was a member of an old English family in Lincolnshire. This was his second journey to South Africa, which he visited some years ago with his brother upon a big game shooting expedition.

All who knew him then will join with us in deploring his loss. Mr. Seymour was a noted shot and an English gentleman of the best stamp. He was last seen by one of the survivors of the catastrophe carrying Miss Clifford, the daughter of the well-known Natal pioneer of that name, into a boat. But as this young lady is reported to have been saved, and as he entered the boat with her, no explanation is yet forthcoming as to how he came to his sad end. "'I fear that is clear enough,' said Mr. Clifford as he folded up his paper. "'Yes, clear enough,' she repeated in a strained voice.

"'And yet, yet, oh, father, he had just asked him. asked me to marry him, and I can't believe that he is dead before I had time to answer." "'Good heavens,' said the old man, "'they never told me that.' "'It is dreadfully sad. God help you, my poor child. There is nothing more to say, except that he was only one among three hundred who have gone with him. Be brave now, before all these people. Look, here comes the tug.'

The following week was very much of a blank to Benita. when they reached shore, some old friends of her fathers took her and him to their house, a quiet place upon the barria. Here, now that the first excitement of rescue and grief was over, the inevitable reaction set in, bringing with it weakness so distressing that the doctor insisted upon her going to bed, where she remained for the next five days.

With the healing up of the wound in her head, her strength came back to her at last, but it was a very sad Benita who crept from her. room one afternoon onto the veranda and looked out at the cruel sea, peaceful now as the sky above. Her father, who had nursed her tenderly during these dark days, came and sat by her, taking her hand in his. "'This is capital,' he said, glancing at her anxiously. "'You are getting quite yourself again.'

"'I shall never be myself again,' she answered. "'My old self is dead, although the outside of me has recovered.' father i suppose that it is wrong but i wish that i were dead too i wished that he had taken me with him when he jumped into the sea to lighten the boat don't speak like that he broke in hastily of course i know that i'm not much to you how can i be after all that is past but i love you dear and if i were left quite alone again and he broke off you shall not be left alone if i can help it she replied looking at the old man with her dark intent eyes. We have only each other in the world now, have we? The rest have gone, never to return. He threw his arms about her, and, drawing her to him, kissed her passionately. If only you could learn to love me, he said. I do love you, she answered, who now shall never love any other man upon the earth. This was the beginning of a deep affection

which sprang up between Mr. Clifford and his daughter, and continued to the the end. Is there any news? she asked a little later. None, none about him. The tide took his body away, no doubt, after the kaffir had gone. I remember him well now. He was a fine young man, and it comes into my mind that when I said goodbye to him, up above those old ruins, I wished that I had a son like that, and to think that he went so near to becoming a son to me. Well, the grass must bend when the wind blows, as the natives say, I'm glad that you knew him, she answered simply. Then they began talking about other matters.

He told her that all the story had become known and that people spoke of Robert Seymour as the hero, also that there was a great deal of curiosity about her. Then let us get away as soon as we can, she said nervously. But, father, where are we going? That will be for you to decide, love. Listen now, this is my position. I have been quite steady for years and worked hard, with the results that I and my partner have a fine farm on the Transvaal, on the highland near Lake Crissy, out Wackerstromway.

We breed horses there, and have done very well with them. I have £1,500 saved, and the farm brings us in quite £600 a year beyond the expenses. But it is a lonely place with only a few boars about, although they are good fellow, enough. You might not care to live there with no company. I don't think that I should mind, she answered, smiling. Not now, but buy and buy you would when you know what it is like. Now I might sell my share in the farm to my partner, who I think would buy it, or I might trust to him to send me a part of the profits, which perhaps he would not. Then, if you wish it, we could live in or near one of the towns, or even, as you have an income of your own,

"'Go home to England if that is your will?' "'Is it your will?' she asked. "'He shook his head. "'No, all my life is here. "'Also, I have something to find before I die. "'For your sake, dear.' "'Do you mean up among those ruins?' she asked, "'looking at him curiously.

"'Yes, so you know about it,' he answered with a flash of his blue eyes. "'Oh, of course, Seymour told you. "'Yes, I mean among the ruins.' "'But I will tell you, that story another time, not here, not here. What do you wish to do, Benita? Remember, I am in your hands. I will obey you in all things. Not to stop in a town, and not to go to England, she replied, while he hung eagerly upon her words, for this has become my holy land. Father, I will go with you to your farm. There I can be quiet. You and I together.

Yes, he answered rather uneasily. But you see, Ben, Ben, Ben, "'We shall not be quite alone there. "'My partner, Jacob Meier, lives with me. "'Yacob Mea? Ah, I remember,' and she winced. "'He's a German, is he not, and odd.' "'German drew, I imagine, and very odd. "'Should have made his fortune a dozen times over, "'and yet has never done anything.

"'Too unpractical, too visionary, "'with all his brains and scheming. "'Not a good man, Benita, although he suits me, and for the matter of that, under our agreement I cannot get rid of him. How did he become your partner? she asked. Oh, a good many years ago he turned up at the place with a doleful story, said that he had been trading among the Zulus. He was what we call a smouse out here, and got into a row with them.

I don't know how. The end of it was that they burned his wagon, looted his trade goods and oxen, and killed his servants. They would have killed him, too, only, According to his own account, he escaped in a very queer fashion. How? Well, he says, by mesmerising the chief and making the man lead him through his followers. An odd story enough.

But I can quite believe it of Jacob. He worked for me for six months and showed himself very clever. Then one night, I remember it was a few days after I had told him the story of the Portuguese treasure in Matabaleli land. He produced five hundred pounds. in Bank of England notes out of the lining of his waistcoat, and offered to buy a half-interest in the farm. Yes, £500, although for all those months I had believed him to be a beggar. Well, as he was so slim, and better than no company in that lonely place, in the end I accepted. We have done well since, except for the expedition after the treasure, which we did not get,

although we more than paid our expenses out of the ivory we bought. But next time we shall succeed, I am sure, he added with enthusiasm. That is, if we can persuade those macalanga to let us search on the mountains. Benita smiled. I think you have better stick to the horse-breeding, she said. You shall judge when you hear the story. But you have been brought up in England. Will you not be afraid to go to Lake Chrissy?

Afraid of what? she asked. Oh, of the loneliness and of Jacob Mell. I was born on the felt, father, and I have always hated London. As for your odd friend, Mr. Mayor, I am not afraid of any man on earth. I have done with men. At the least, I will try the place and see how I get on. Very well, answered her father with a sigh of relief. You can always come back, aren't you?

Yes, she said indifferently. I suppose that I can always come back. End of chapter four. Chapter 5 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Jacob Meyer Over three weeks had gone by when one morning Benita, who slept upon the cartel or hide-strung bed in the wagon,

having dressed herself as best she could in that confined place, thrust aside the curtain, and seated herself upon the vaux-kisser or driving-box. The sun was not yet at a time. up and the air was cold with frost, for they were on the Transvaal High Felt at the end of winter. Even through her thick cloak, Benita shivered and called to the driver of the wagon, who also acted as cook, and whose blanket draped form she could see bending over a fire into which he was blowing life, to make haste with the coffee.

"'By and bye, missy, buy and bye,' he answered, coughing the rank smoke from his lungs. "'Cettle no sing yet, and fire black as head. Benita reflected the popular report painted this locality red, but without entering into argument, sat still upon the chest, waiting till the water boiled and her father appeared. Presently he emerged from under the side-flap of the wagon where he slept, and remarking that it was really too cold to think of washing, climbed to her side by help of the disill-boom and kissed her.

How far are we now from Roy Kranz, father? she asked, for that was the name of Mr. Clifford's farm. About forty miles, dear, the wagon cannot make it tonight with these two sick oxen, but after the midday outspan we will ride on and be there by sundown. I'm afraid you are tired of this trekking. No, she answered. I like it very much. It is so restful, and I sleep sound upon that cartel. I feel as though I should like to trek on for the rest of my life.

So you shall if you wish. dear for whole months. South Africa is big, and when the grass grows, if you still wish it, we will take a long journey. She smiled but made no answer, knowing that he was thinking of the place so far away, where he believed that once the Portuguese had buried gold. The kettle was singing now merrily enough, and Hans the cook, lifting it from the fire in triumph, for his blowing exertions had been severe, poured into it a quantity of ground coffee from an old mustard tin. Then, having stirred the mixture with the stick, he took a red ember from the fire and dropped it into the kettle, a process which, as travellers in the veldt knew well,

has a clearing effect upon the coffee. Next, he produced panikins and handed them up with a pickle jar full of sugar to Mr Clifford upon the wagon chest. Milk they had none, yet that coffee tasted a great deal better than it looked. Indeed, Benita drank two cups of it to warm her and washed down the hard biscuit. Before the day was over, glad enough was she that she had done so. The sun was rising, huge and red it looked seen through the clinging mist, and their breakfast finished, Mr. Clifford gave orders that the oxen, which were filling themselves with the dry grass near at hand, should be got up and inspanned. The forloper, a Zulu boy who had left them for a little while to share the rest of the coffee with Hans, rose from his horn-shunds,

rose from his haunches with a grunt and departed to fetch them. A minute or two later, Hans ceased from his occupation of packing up the things and said in a low voice, Kike, bass, that is, look! Following the line of his outstretched hand, Benita and her father perceived not more than a hundred yards away from them, a great troop of Wildebeester, one knew, travelling along a ridge,

and pausing now and again to indulge in those extraordinary gambles which cause the boars to declare that these brutes have a worm in their brains give me my rifle hans said mr clifford we want meat by the time that the westley richards was drawn from its case and loaded only one buck remained for having caught sight of the wagon it turned to stare at it suspiciously mr clifford aimed and fired down went the buck then springing to its feet again vanished behind the ridge Mr Clifford shook his head sadly I don't often do that sort of thing my dear but the light is still very bad Still he's hit What do you say

Shall we get on the horses and catch him The canter would warm you Benita who was tender-hearted Reflected that it would be kinder to put the poor creature Out of its pain and nodded her head Five minutes later they were cantering together up the rise Mr Clifford having first ordered the wagon to trek on till they rejoined it, and slipped a packet of cartridges into his pocket.

Beyond this rise lay a wide stretch of marshy ground, bordered by another rise half a mile or more away, from the crest of which, for now the air was clear enough, they saw the wounded bull standing. On they went after him, but before they could come within shot, he had moved forward once more, for he was only lightly hurt in the flank, and guessed whence his trouble came.

Again and again did he retreat as they drew near, until at length, just as Mr Clifford was about to dismount to risk a long shot, the beast took to his heels in earnest. Come on, he said, don't let's be beat, for by this time the hunter was alive in him, so off they went as a gallop, up slopes and down slopes that reminded Benita of the Bay of Biscay in a storm, across half-dried vlaise that in the wet season were ponds,

through stony ground and patches of ant-bear holes, in which they nearly came to grief. For five miles at least, that chase went on, since at the end of winter the wildebeester was thin and could gallop well, notwithstanding its injury, faster even than their good horses. At last, rising a ridge, they found whither it was going, for suddenly they were in the midst of vowsy, vast herds of game,

thousands and tens of thousands of them stretching as far as the eye could reach. It was a wonderer's sight that now, alas, will be seen no more, at any rate upon the Transvaal Welt, wildebeester, bless-bok, Springbok, in countless multitudes, and amongst them a few quagga and heartebester,

with a sound like that of thunder, their flashing myriad hooves, casting up clouds of dust, dust from the fire-blackened veldt, the great herds separated at the appearance of their enemy, man. This way and that they went in groups and long brown lines, leaving the wounded and exhausted wildebeester behind them, so that presently he was the sole tenant of that great cup of land. At him they rode till Mr. Clifford, who was a little ahead of his daughter, drew almost alongside.

Then the poor Maddened Brewt tried its last shift. Stopping suddenly, it wheeled round and charged head down. Mr. Clifford as it came, held out his rifle in his right hand and fired at a hazard. The bullet passed through the bull

but could not stop its charge. Its horns held low, struck the forelegs of the horse. The next instant, Horse, Man and Wilderby, rolled on the felt together. Benita, who was fifty yards behind, uttered a little cry of fear,

but before ever she reached him, her father had risen laughing, for he was quite unhurt. The horse too was getting up, but the bull could rise no more. It struggled to its forefeet, uttered a kind of sobbing groan, stared round wildly,

and rolled over, dead. I never knew a wilderbeast charge like that before, said Mr. Clifford, confound it! I believe my horse is lamed! Lamed it was indeed, where the bull had struck the foreleg, though, as it chanced not

badly. Having tied a handkerchief to the horn of the buck in order to scare away the vultures and thrown some tufts of dry grass upon its body, which he proposed if possible to fetch or send for, Mr. Clifford mounted his lame horse and headed for the wagon.

But they had They galloped further than they thought, and it was midday before they came to what they took to be the road. As there was no spoor upon it, they followed this track backwards, expecting to find a wagon outspanned, but although they rode for mile upon mile, no wagon could they see. Then, realizing their mistake, they retraced their steps, and leaving this path at the spot where they had found it, struck off again to the right. Meanwhile the sky was darkening And at about three o'clock in the afternoon

A thunderstorm broke over them Accompanied by torrents of icy rain The first fall of the spring And a bitter wind which chilled them through More after the heavy rain came drizzle And a thick mist that deepened as evening approached Now their plight was very wretched Lost, starved, soaked to the skin

with tired horses, one of which was lame, they wandered about in the lonely veldt. Only one stroke of fortune came to them. As the sun set, for a few minutes its rays pierced the mist, telling them in which direction they should go. Turning their horses they headed for it, and so rode on until the darkness fell. Then they halted a while,

but feeling that if they stood still in that horrible cold they would certainly perish before morning, once more pushed on again. By now Mr Clippard's horse was too lame to ride, so he led it, walking at his daughter's side, and reproaching himself bitterly for his foolishness in having brought her into this trouble. "'It doesn't matter, father,' she answered wearily, for she was very tired.

"'Nothing matters. "'One may as well die upon the felt as in the sea or anywhere else.' on they plodded they knew not whither benita fell asleep upon her saddle and was awakened once by a hyena howling quite close to them and once by her horse falling to its knees what is the time she said at last her father struck a match and looked at his watch it was ten o'clock they had been fifteen hours away from the wagon and without food at intervals mr clifford had fired his rifle now there was a-clock they had been fifteen hours away from the wagon and without food at intervals mr clifford had fired his rifle now there was but one cartridge left, and having caught sight of his daughter's exhausted face by the light of the match, he fired this also, though in that desperate wilderness there was little hope of its bringing succour. "'Shall we stop or go on?' he asked. "'I do not care,' she answered.

"'Only if I stop I think it will be forever. Let us go on.' Now the rain had ceased, but the mist was as dense as before. Also, they seemed to have got among bush. A wet leaves brushed their faces. Utterly exhausted, they stumbled forward, till suddenly Benita felt her horse stop as though a hand had seized its bridle and heard a man's voice speaking with a foreign accent say,

Mine God, where are you going? I wish I knew, she answered, like one in a dream. At this instant, the moon rose above the mists, and Benita saw Jacob Meyer for the first time. In that light his appearance was not unpleasing, a man of about forty years of age, not over at all, slight and active in build,

with a pointed black beard, regular Semitic features, a complexion of an ivory pallor, which even the African sun did not seem to tan, and dark, lustrous eyes that appeared, now to sleep and now to catch the fire of the thoughts within, yet weary though she was there was something in the man's personality which repelled and alarmed benita something wild and cruel she felt that he was filled with unsatisfied ambitions and desires and that to attain them he would shrink at nothing in a moment he was speaking again in tones that compelled her attention it was a good thought that brought me here to look for you no not a thought what do you call it an instinct i think your minds must have spoken to my mind and called me to save you

see now clifford my friend where you have led your daughter see see and he pointed downwards they leaned forward and stared there immediately beneath them was a mighty gulf whereof the moonlight did not reveal the bottom you are no goodfeld traveller clifford my friend one more step of those silly beasts and down below there would have been two red heaps with bits of bones sticking out of them yes there on the rocks five hundred feet beneath ah you would have slept sound to-night both of you "'What is the place?' asked Mr. Clifford in a dazed fashion. "'Leopards Clouffe?' "'Yes, Leopards Clouf, no other. "'You have travelled along the top of the hill, not at the bottom.

"'Certainly that was a good thought which came to me from the lady your daughter, "'for she is one of the thought-senders, I am sure. "'Ah, it came to me suddenly, it hits me like a stick while I was searching for you. "'Having found that you had lost the wagon, It said to me, Ride to the top of Leophe, Ride heart. I rode hard through the rocks and the darkness,

through the mist and the rain, and not one minute had I been here when you came and I caught the lady's bridle. I am sure we are very grateful to you, murmured Benita. Then I am paid back ten thousand times. No, it is I who am grateful, I who have saved your life,

through the thought you sent me. Thought or no thought, all's well that ends well, broke in Mr. Clifford impatiently, and thank heaven we are not more than three miles from home. Will you lead the way, Jacob? You always could see in the dark. Yes, yes,

and he took hold of Benita's bridle with his firm white hand. Oh, my horse will follow, or put your arm through his rain so. Now, come on, Miss Clifford, and be afraid no more. With Jacob Mea, you are safe. So they began their descent of the hill.

Mayor did not speak again. All his attention seemed to be concentrated upon finding a safe path on which the horses would not stumble. Nor did Benita speak. She was too utterly exhausted, so exhausted indeed that she could no longer control her mind and imagination. These seemed to loose themselves from her and to acquire new powers,

notably that of entering into the secret thoughts of the man at her side. She saw them pass before her like living things, and yet she could not read them. Still, something she did understand, that she has suddenly grown important to this man, not in the way in which women are generally important to men, but otherwise. She felt as though she had become interwoven with the objects of his life,

and was henceforth necessary to their fulfilment, as though she was someone whom he had done, been seeking for years on years, the one person who could give him light in his darkness. These imaginings troubled her so that she was very thankful when they passed away as swiftly as they had arisen, and she knew only that she was half dead with weariness and cold, that her limbs ached and that the steep path seemed endless. At length they reached level ground, and after travelling along it for a while and crossing the bed of a stream, passed through a gate and stopped suddenly at the door of a house with lighted windows.

Here is your home at last, Miss Clifford, said the musical voice of Jacob Mea, and I thank the fate which rules us that it has taught me to bring you to it safely. Making no answer she slid from the saddle, only to find she could not stand, for she sank into a heap upon the ground. With a gentle exclamation he lifted her,

and calling to two kaffirs who had appeared to take the horses, led her into the house. "'You must go to bed at Vance,' he said, conducting her to a door which opened out of the sitting-room. "'I have had a fire lit in your chamber in case you should come, "'and old Tanta Sally will bring you soup with brandy in it "'and hot water for your feet.

"'Ah, there you are, old frau! "'Come now, help the lady your mistress. "'It's all ready.' "'Albas,' answered the woman, "'a stout half-breed with cats, kindly face. Come now my little one, and I will undress you. Half an hour later, Benita, having drunk more brandy than ever she had done in her life before, was wrapped up in blankets and fast asleep. When she awoke, the sun was streaming through the curtained window of her room,

and by the light of it she saw that the clock which stood upon the mantelpiece pointed to half-past 11. She has slept for nearly 12 hours, and felt that notwithstanding the cold and exposure, save for stiffness and a certain numb feeling in her head, the results perhaps of the unaccustomed brandy. She was well, and, what was more, quite hungry. Outside on the veranda she heard the voice of Jacob Mea, with which she seemed already to have become familiar, telling some natives to stop singing as they would awake the chieftainess inside. He used the Zulu word, in Kosikas, which she remembered meant headlady or chieftainess. He was very thoughtful for her, she reflected, and was grateful, till suddenly she remembered the dislike she had taken to the man.

Then she looked round her room, and saw that it was very pretty, well furnished and papered, with watercolour pictures of no mean merit on the walls. Things that she had not expected in this far-off place. Also, on a table, stood a great bowl of arum-lilies. She wondered who had put them there, whether it were the old half-breed, Sally, or Jacob Mea. Also, she wondered who had painted the pictures, which were all of African scenery, and something told her that both the flowers and the pictures came from Jacob Mea. On the little table by her bed was a hand-bell, which presently she rang. instantly she heard the voice of Sally calling for the coffee

quick and next minute the woman entered bringing a tray with it and bread and butter yes and toast and eggs that had evidently been made ready for her speaking in English mixed with Dutch words she told Benita that her father was still in bed but sent her his love and wished to know how she did then while she ate her breakfast with appetite Sally set her a bath and subsequently appeared carrying the contents of the box she had used upon the wagon,

which had now arrived safely at the farm. Benita asked who had ordered the box to be unpacked, and Sally answered that the hear-mayer had ordered it, so that she might not be disturbed in her sleep, and that her things should be ready for her when she woke. The hear-mayer thinks a great deal about other people, said Benita. Yeah, yeah, answered the old half-breed. he think much about people when he want to think about him but he think most about himself bass mare he a very clever man oh a very clever man who want to be a great man too and one day missy he'd be a great man great and rich if they hear good almighty let him

end of chapter five chapter six of the spirits of bambatsy by h rider haggard this libyvox recording is in the public domain the gold coin six weeks had gone by since the eventful night of benita's arrival at ruy crants now the spring had fully come the felt was emerald with grass and bright with flowers in the kloof behind the house trees had put out their leaves and the mimosa were in bloom making the air heavy with their scent amongst them the ring-doughs nested in hundreds and on the steep rocks of the precipice the redmond bed-necked vultures fed their young. Along the banks of the stream and round the borders of the lake, the pig-lilies bloomed, a sheet of white. All the place was beautiful and full of life and hope. Nothing seemed dead and hopeless, except Benita's heart.

Her health was quite come back to her. Indeed, never before had she felt so strong and well, but the very soul had withered in her breast. All days she thought, and all night she dreamed. of the man who, in cold blood, had offered up his life to save those of a helpless woman and her child. She wondered whether he would have done this if he had heard the answer that was upon her lips.

Perhaps that was why she had not been given time to speak that answer, which might have made a coward of him. For nothing more had been heard of Robert Seymour. Indeed, already the tragedy of the ship Sanzibar was forgotten. The dead had buried their dead, and since then worst disasters had happened in the world but benita could not bury her dead she rode about the veldt she sat by the lake and watched the wild-fowl or at night heard them flighting over her in flocks she listened to the cooing of the doves the booming of the bitterns and the reeds and the drumming of the snipe high in air she counted the game trekking along the ridge till her mind grew weary she sought consolation from the breast of nature and found none she sought it in the starlit skies and oh they were very far away death reigned within her who outwardly was so fair to see

in the society of her father indeed she took pleasure for he loved her and love comforted her wounded heart in that of yakob maya also she found interest for now her first fear of the man had died away and undoubtedly he was very interesting well done bread also after a fashion, although a Jew who had lost his own faith and rejected that of the Christians. He had told her that he was a German by birth, that he had been sent to England as a boy to avoid the conscription which Jews dislike, since in soldiering there is little profit. Here he had become a clerk in a house of South African merchants, and, as a consequence, having shown all the ability of his race, was dispatched to take charge of a branch business in Cape Colony. What happened to him there, Benita never discovered, but probably he had shown too much ability of an oblique nature. At any rate, his connection with the firm terminated,

and for years he became a wandering smouse or trader, until at length he drifted into partnership with her father. Whatever might have been his past, however, soon she found that he was an extremely able and agreeable man. It was he and no other who had painted the watercolours that adorned her room, and he could play and sing as well as he painted. Also, as Robert had told her, Mr. Mayer was very well read in subjects that are not usually studied on the Velt of South Africa. Indeed, he had quite a library of books, most of them histories are philosophical and scientific works, of which he would lend her volumes. Fiction, however, he never read, for the reason he told her that he found life itself and the mysteries and problems which surround it,

so much more interesting one evening when they were walking together by the lake watching the long lights of sunset break and quiver upon its surface benita's curiosity overcame her and she asked him boldly how it happened that such a man as he was content to live the life he did "'In order that I may reach a better,' he answered. "'Oh, no, not in the skies, Miss Clifford, "'for of them I know nothing, "'nor, as I believe, is there anything to know? "'But here, here.' "'What do you mean by a better life, Mr. Mayor?' "'I mean,' he answered with a flash of his dark eyes,

"'great wealth and the power that wealth brings. "'Ah, I see you think me very sordid and materialistic, "'but money is God in this world, Miss Clifford. "'Money is God.' she smiled and answered I fear then that he is likely to prove an invisible god on the high felt Mr. Mayor, you will scarcely make a great

fortune out of horse breeding and here there is no one to rule Do you suppose then that is why I stop at Roy Krantz Just to breed horses Has not your father told you about the great treasure hidden away up there among the Macalanga? I have heard something of it

She answered with a sigh Also that both of you went to look for it and were disappointed. Ah, the Englishman who was drowned, Mr. Seymour, he spoke of it, did he not? He found us there. Yes, and you wished to shoot him, do you remember?

God in heaven, yes, because I thought he had come to rob us. Well, I did not shoot, and afterwards we were hunted out of the place, which does not much matter, as those fools of natives refused to let us dig in the fortress. Then why do you still think about this treasure,

which probably does not exist. Why, Miss Clifford, do you think about various things that probably do not exist? Perhaps, because you feel that here or elsewhere they do exist? Well, that is what I feel about the treasure and what I have always felt. It exists and I shall find it. Now I shall live to see more gold than you can even imagine.

And that is why I still continue to breed horses on the Transvaal Welt. Ah, you laugh. it is a nightmare that I breed. Then suddenly he became aware of Sally, who had appeared over the fold of the rise behind them, and asked irritably, What is it now, old frau?

The Basque Lifford wants to speak with you, Bas, Yaqub. Messengers have come to you both from far away. What messengers? he asked. I know not, answered Sally, fanning her fat face with a yellow pocket handkerchief. They are strange people to me, and thin with travelling,

but they talk a kind of Zulu. The bass wishes you to come. Will you come also, Miss Clifford? No, then forgive me if I leave you. And lifting his hat he went. A strange man, Missy, said old Sally when he had vanished, walking very fast. Yes, answered Benita in an indifferent voice.

A very strange man, went on the old woman, too much in his cop, and she tapped her forehead. I think it will burst one day, but if it does not burst, then he will be great. I tell you that before, now I tell it you again, for I think his time come, now I go cook dinner. Benita sat by the lake till the twilight fell, and the wild geese began to flight over her, then she walked back to the house, thinking no more of Hiramea, thinking only that she was weary of this place, in which there was nothing to occupy her mind and distract it from its ever-present sorrow.

At dinner, or rather supper, that night, she noticed that both her father and his partner seemed to be suffering from suppressed excitement, of which she thought she could guess the cause. Did you find your messengers, Mr. Mayor? She asked when the men had lit their pipes, and the square face, as Hollands was called in those days from the shape of the bottle,

was set upon the rough table of speckled Buchenhout wood. Yes, I found them, he answered. They are in the kitchen now, and he looked at Mr. Clifford. "'Enita, my dear,' said her father, "'rather a curious thing has happened.' Her face lit up, but he shook his head. "'No, nothing to do with the shipwreck. That is all finished. Still, something that may interest you if you care to hear a story.'

Benita nodded. She was in a mood to hear anything that would occupy her thoughts. "'You know something about this treasure business,' went on her father. Well, this is the tale of it. Years ago, after you and your mother had gone to England, I went on a big game-shooting expedition into the interior. My companion was an old fellow called Tom Jackson, a rolling stone, and one of the best elephant hunters in Africa. We did pretty well, but the end of it was that we separated north of the Transvaal, I bringing down the ivory that we had shot and traded, and Tom stopping to put in another season. The arranged for being that he was to join me afterwards and take his share of the money. I came here and bought this

farm from a bore who was tired of it. Cheap enough too, for I only gave him £100 for the 6,000 acres. The kitchens behind were his old house, for I built the new one. A year had gone by, before I saw any more of Tom Jackson, and then he turned up more dead than alive. He had been injured by an elephant and lay for some months among the macalanga to the north of Matabele land, where he got fever badly at a place called Bambatsi, on the Zambezi. These macalanga are strange folk, I believe their name means the people of the sun. At any rate, they are the last of some ancient race. Well, while he was there he cured the old Molimo, or hereditary high priest of this tribe of a bad fever by giving him quinine,

and naturally they grew friendly. The Molimo lived among ruins of which there are many over all that part of South Africa. No one knows who built them now. Probably it was people who lived thousands of years ago. However, this Molimo told Tom Jackson a more recent legend connected with the place. He said that six generations before,

when his great, great, great-grandfather was cheap, Mammo he called it. The natives of all that part of South Africa rose against the white men, Portuguese, I suppose, who still worked the gold there. They massacred them and their slaves by thousands, driving them up from the southward, where Lomangula rules now, to the Zambezi, by which the Portuguese hoped to escape to the coast. At length the remnant of them, not more than about 200 men and women, arrived at the stronghold called Bambatsi, where the Mollimur now lives in a great ruin, built by the ancients upon an impregnable mountain

which overhangs the river. With them they brought an enormous quantity of gold, all the stored-up treasure of the land which they were trying to carry off. But although they reached the river, they could not escape by it, since the natives who pursued them in thousands watched day and night in canoes,

and the poor fugitives had not. no boats. Therefore, it came about that they were shut up in this fortress, which it was impossible to storm, and there slowly perished of starvation. When it was known that they were all dead, the natives who had followed them from the south, and who wanted blood and revenge, not gold, which was of no use to them, went away. But the old priest's forefather, who knew the secret entrance to the place, and who had been friendly to the Portuguese, forced his way in, and there amidst the dead found one woman living but mad with grief, a young and beautiful girl, the daughter of the Portuguese lord or captain.

He gave her food, but in the night when some strength had returned to her, she left him, and at daybreak he found her standing on the peak that overhangs the river, dressed all in white. He calls some of his counsellors, and they tried to persuade her to come down from the rock, but she answered, no, her betrothed and all her family and friends were dead, and it was her will to follow them. Then they asked where was the gold, for having watched day and night,

they knew it had not been thrown into the river. She answered that it was where it was, and that seek as he might, no black man would ever find it. She added that she gave it into his keeping, and that of his descendants to safeguard until she came again. also she said that if they were faithless to that trust then it had been revealed to her from heaven above that those same savages who had killed her father and her people

would kill his people also when she had spoken thus she stood a while praying on the peak then suddenly hurled herself into the river and were seen no more from that day to this the ruin has been held to be haunted and save the Mollimo himself, who retires there to meditate and receive revelations from the spirits. No one is allowed to set a foot in its upper part.

Indeed the natives would rather die than do so. Consequently, the gold still remains where it was hidden. This place itself, Tom Jackson did not see, since, notwithstanding his friendship for him, the Mollimor refused to allow him to enter there. well tom never recovered he died there and is buried in the little graveyard behind the house which the boars made for some of their people it was shortly after his death that mr mayor became my partner for i forgot to say that i had told him the story and we determined to have a try for that great wealth you know the rest we trekked to bambatsy pretending to betrayers and found the old molimo who knew of me as having been tom jackson's for friend. We asked him if the story he had told to Jackson were true, and he answered that,

surely as the sun shone in the heavens it was true, every word of it, for it, and much more than he had spoken of, had been handed down from father to son, and that they even knew the name of the white lady who had killed herself. It was Ferrera, your mother's name, Benita, though a common one enough in South Africa. We asked him to allow us to enter the topmost stronghold, which stands upon the hill, but he refused, saying that the curse still lay upon him and his, and that no man should enter, until the Lady Ferreira came again. For the rest the place was free to us. We might dig where we would. So we did dig, and found some gold buried with the ancients, beads and bangles and wire, about a hundred pounds worth. Also, that was on the day

when the young Seymours came upon us and accounts for Mayer's excitement, for he thought that we were on the track of the treasure. We found a single gold coin, no doubt one that had been dropped by the Portuguese. Here it is, and he threw a thin piece of gold on the table before her. I have shown it to a man learned in those matters,

and he says that it is a duck-ert, struck by one of the doges of Venice. Well, we never found any more, the end of it was that the Macalanga caught us, trying to get into the secret stronghold by stealth, and gave us the choice of clearing out or being killed. So we cleared out, but treasure is not of much use to dead men.

Mr Clifford ceased speaking, and filled his pipe, while Mayor helped himself to square face in an absent manner. As for Benita, she stared at the quaint old coin which had a hole in it, wondering with what scenes of terror and of bloodshed it had been connected. Keep it, said her father.

It will go on that bracelet of yours. Thank you, dear, she answered, though I don't know why I should take all the Portuguese treasure since we shall never find any more of it. Why not, Miss Clifford? asked Mayer quickly. The story tells you why, because the natives won't even let you look for it.

Also, looking and finding are different things. Natives change their minds sometimes, Miss Clifford. that story is not done, it is only begun, and now you shall hear its second chapter. Clifford, may I call in the messengers, and without waiting for an answer he rose and left the room. Neither Mr. Clifford nor his daughter said anything after he had gone. Benita appeared to occupy herself in fixing the broad gold coin to a little swivel on her bracelet, but while she did so, once more that strange sixth sense of hers awoke within her. as she had been afraid at the dinner on the doomed steamer so again she was afraid again death and great fear cast their advancing shadows on to her soul

that piece of gold seemed to speak to her yet alas she could not understand its story only she knew that her father and jacob maya and yes yes robert seymour all had a part in that tragedy oh how could that that be when he was dead? How could the gold link him to her? She knew not, she cared not, all she knew was that she would follow this treasure to the edge of the world, and if need be, over it, if only it brought her back to him again. End of chapter six. Chapter 7 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The Messengers The door opened, and through it came Jacob Meier, followed by three natives.

Benita did not see or hear them, her soul was far away. There, at the head of the room, clad all in white, for she wore no mourning, save in her heart, illuminated by the rays of the lamp that hung above her, she stood still and upright, for she had risen, on the face and in her wide dark eyes, a look that was very strange to see. Jacob Meier perceived it and stopped,

The three natives perceived it also and stopped. There they stood, all four of them, at the end of the long sitting room, staring at the white Benita and at her haunted eyes. One of the natives pointed with his thin finger to her face and whispered to the others. Maya, who understood their tongue, caught the whisper. It was, behold, the spirit of the rock! What spirit and what rock? he asked in a low voice. "'She who horned Spambatsi,

"'she who my eyes have seen,' "'answered the man, still staring at Benita. "'Benita heard the whispering "'and knew that it was about herself, "'though not one word of it did she catch. "'With a sigh she shook herself free from her visions "'and sat down in a chair close by. "'Then, one by one, the messengers drew near to her,

"'and each, as he came, made a profound abasance, "'touching the floor with his fingertips and staring at her face, but her father they only saluted with an uplifted hand. She looked at them with interest, and indeed they were interesting in their way, tall spare men, light-coloured with refined mobile faces. Here was no negro blood,

but rather that of some ancient people, such as Egyptians or Phoenicians, men whose forefathers had been wise and civilised thousands of years ago, and perchance had stood in the courts of Pharaoh or of Solomon. Solomon. Their salutations finished, the three men squatted in a line upon the floor, drawing their fur carosses or robes about them, and waited in silence. Jacob Meier thought a while, then said, Clifford, will you translate to your daughter, so that she may be sure she has told exactly what passes?

Next he turned and addressed the natives. Your names are Tamas, Tamala and Hobba, and you, Tamas, are the son of the Molimo of Bambatsi, who is called Mamma. And you, Tamala and Hobba, are his initiated counsellors. Is it so? They bowed their heads. Good. You, Tamas, tell the story and give again your message that this lady, the lady Benita, may hear it, for she has a part in the matter.

We understand that she has a part, answered Tamas. We read in her face that she has the greatest part. Doubtless it is of her that the spirit spoke to my father. These, spoken by my mouth, are the words of my words of. Mollimo, my father, which we have traveled so far to deliver. When you two white men visited Bambatsi four years ago, you asked of me Mambo to be admitted to the holy place that you might look for the treasure there, which the Portuguese hid in the time of my ancestor in the sixth generation. I refuse to allow you to look, or even to enter the holy place, because I am by birth the guardian

of that treasure, although I know not where it lies. but now I am in a great strait. I have news that Lobengula, the usurper, who is king of the Matabele, has taken offence against me, for certain reasons among them that I did not send him a sufficient tribute. It is reported to me

that he proposes next summer to dispatch an impi to wipe me and my people out and to make my kraal black as the burnt veld. I have little strength to resist him, who is mighty, and my people are not warlike from generation to generation they have been traders cultivators of the land workers in metals and men of peace who desire not to kill or be killed also they are few therefore i have no power to stand against lobengula i remember the guns that you and your companion brought with you which can kill things from far away if i had a supply of those guns from behind my walls i might defy the impi of lobengulae whose warriors use the Asagai.

If you will bring me a hundred good guns and plenty of powder and bullets for them, it is revealed to me that it will be lawful for me to admit you to the secret holy place, where you may look for the buried gold for as long as you wish, and if you can find it, take it all away without hindrance from me or my people. But I will be honest with you, that gold will never be found save by the one appointed. the white lady said so in the time of my forefather. He heard it with his ears, and I have heard it from his descendants with my ears,

and so it shall be. Still, if you bring the guns, you can come, and see if either of you is that one appointed. But I do not think that any man is so appointed, for the secret is hid in woman. But of this you can learn for yourselves. I do but speak as I am bidden. This is my message spoken by my mouth,

Tamas, son of my body and my counsellors who go with him will bear witness that he speaks the truth. I, Mambo, the Molimo of Bambatsi send you greeting, and will give you good welcome and fulfil my promise if you come with the far-shooting guns,

ten times ten of them, and the powder and the bullets wherewith I may drive off the Batabile, but not otherwise. My son, Tamas and my counsellors will drive your wagon into my country, but you must bring no strange servants. The spirit of the white woman who killed herself

before the eyes of my forefather has been seen of late standing upon the point of rock. Also, she has visited me at night in my secret place where her companions died. I do not know all that this portends, but I think that amongst other things she wished to tell me that the Matabile are about to attack us. I await the decree of the heavens.

i send you two carosses as a gift and a little ancient gold since ivory is too heavy for my messengers to carry and i have no wagon farewell we have heard you said mayor when mr clifford had finished translating and we wish to ask you a question what do you mean when you say that the spirit of the white woman has been seen i mean what i say white man answered thomas she was seen by all three of us standing upon the pinnacle at the dawn also my father saw and spoke with her alone in his sleep at night this is the third time in my father's day that she has appeared thus always before some great event what would she like asked mayor like oh like the lady who sit yonder yes quite the same or so it seemed to us but who knows we have seen no other white women and we were not very near let the lady come and stand side by side with the spirit, so that we can examine them both, and we shall be able to answer better. Do you accept the offer of the Molimo? We will tell you tomorrow morning, replied Mayor. A hundred rifles are many to find, and will cost much money. Meanwhile, for you, that is food and a sleeping place.

The three men seem disappointed at his answer, which they evidently believe to be a preliminary to a refusal. For a moment or two they consulted together, then time. Hamas put his hand into a pouch and drew from it something wrapped in dry leaves, which he undid, revealing a quaint and beautiful necklace, fashioned of twisted gold links, wherein were set white stones, that they had no difficulty in recognizing as uncut diamonds of considerable value. From this necklace also hung a crucifix moulded in gold.

"'We offer this gift,' he said, "'on behalf of Mambo, my father, to the lady yonder, to whom the carosses and the rough gold are of no use. The chain has a story. When the Portuguese lady hurled herself into the river, she wore it about her neck. As she fell into the river, she struck against a little point of rock

which tore the chain away from her. See where it is broken and mended with gold wire. It remained upon the point of rock, and my forefather took it thence. It is a gift to the lady if she will promise to wear it. "'Accept it,' muttered Mr. Clifford, "'when he had finished translating this, "'or you will give offence.'

"'So Benita said, "'I thank the Molymo, and accept his gift.' "'Then Tamas rose and advancing, "'cast the ancient, tragic thing over her head. "'As it fell upon her shoulders, "'Benita knew that it was a chain of destiny, "'drawing her she knew not where, "'this ornament that had last been worn by that woman,

"'berieved and unhappy as herself. who could find no refuge from her sorrow except Sindh. Had she felt it torn from her breast, she wondered, as she, the living Benita of today, felt it fall upon her own. The three envoys rose, bowed and went, leaving them alone. Jacob Mea lifted his head as though to address her, then changed his mind and was silent. Both the men waited for her to speak, but she would not,

and in the end it was her father who spoke first. What do you say, Benita? he asked anxiously. I? I have nothing to say, except that I have heard a very curious story. The priest's message is to you and Mr. Mayor, father, and must be answered by you. What have I to do with it? A great deal, I think, my dear, or so those men seem to believe. At any rate, I cannot go up there without you, that I will not take you there against your wish, for it is a long way off and a queer business.

The question is, will you go? She thought a space, while the two men watched her anxiously. Yes, yes, she answered at length, in a quiet voice. I will go if you wish to go, not because I want to find treasure, but because the story and the country where it happened interest me. Indeed, I don't believe much in the treasure. Even if they are superstitious and afraid to look for it themselves, I doubt whether they would allow you to look if they think.

thought it could be found. To me, the journey does not seem a good business speculation. Also, there are risks. We think it's good enough, broken Mayor decidedly, and one does not expect to get millions without trouble. Yes, yes, said her father, but she is right. There are risks, great risks, fever, wild beasts, savages, and others that one cannot foresee. Have I a right to expose her to them? Or are we not to go alone? "'It would be useless,' answered Mayor. "'Those messengers have seen your daughter, "'and mixed her up with the superstitious story of a ghost,

"'of which I, who know that there are no such things, believe nothing, "'without her now we shall certainly fail.' "'As for the risks, father,' said Benita, "'personally, I take no account of them, "'for I'm sure that what is to happen will happen, "'and if I knew that I was to die upon the Zambezi, "'it would make no difference to me who do not care. but as it chances, I think, I cannot tell you why,

that you and Mr. Mayor are in more danger than I am. It is for you to consider whether you will take the risks. Mr. Clifford smiled. I am old, he said. That is my answer. And I am accustomed to such things, said Amaya, with a shrug of his shoulders. Who would not run a little danger for the sake of such a glorious chance? Wealth, wealth, more wealth than we can dream of.

and with it power power to avenge to reward to buy position and pleasure and all beautiful things which are the heritage of the very rich alone he spread out his hands and looked upwards as though in adoration of this golden god except such trifles as health and happiness commented benita not without sarcasm for this man and his material desires disgusted her somewhat especially when she contrasted him with another man who was lost to her though it was true that his past had been idle and unproductive enough. Yet they interested her also, for Benita had never met anyone like Mr. Mayer, so talented, so eager, and so soulless. Then I understand it is settled, she said. Mr Cliff had hesitated, but Mayer answered at once. Yes, settled as far as anything can be.

She waited a moment for her father to speak, but he said nothing. his chance had gone by. Very well, now we shall not need to trouble ourselves with further doubts or argument. We are going to Bambatsy on the Zembizzi, a distant place to look for buried gold, and I hope, Mr. Mayor, that if you find it, the results will come up to your expectations and bring you all sorts of good luck.

Good night, father dear, good night. My daughter thinks it will bring us ill fortune, said Mr. Clifford, when the door had closed behind her. That is her way of saying so. Yes, answered Mayor gloomily. She thinks that, and she is one of those who have vision. Well, she may be wrong. Also, the question is,

shall we seize our opportunity and its dangers, or remain here and breed bad horses all our lives, while she who is not afraid laughs at us? I am going to Bambatsy. Again Mr. Cliff had made no direct answer, only asked a question, How long will it take to get the guns and ammunition, and what will they cost?

About a week from Vakestrome, replied Mayor. Old Pottgita, the trader there, has just imported a hundred martinis and a hundred Wesley Richards falling blocks. 50 of each, with 10,000 rounds of cartridge, will cost about 600 pound, and we have as much as that in the bank. Also, we have the new wagon

and plenty of good oxen and horses, We can take a dozen of the horses with us, and sell them in the north of the Transvaal for a fine price, before we get into the Tetsyfly belt. The oxen will probably carry us through, as they are most of them salted. You have thought it all out, Jacob, I see. But it means a lot of money one way and another, to say nothing of other things. Yes, a lot of money, and those rifles are too good for cafes. Birmingham gas pipes would have done for them, but they are none to be had. but what is the money and what are the guns compared to all they will bring us?

I think you'd better ask my daughter, Jacob. She seems to have her own ideas upon the subject. Miss Clifford has made up her mind, and it will not change. I shall ask her no more, replied Mayor. Then he too left the room to give orders about the journey to Wackastrome that he must take upon the morrow. But Mr. Clifford sat there till past midnight, wondering whether he had done right,

and if they would find the treasure of which he had dreamed for years, and what the future had in store for them. If only he could have seen. When Benita came to breakfast the next morning, she asked where Mr. Mayor was, and learned that he had already departed for Wachostrom. Certainly, he is in earnest, she said with a laugh. Yes, answered her father.

Jacob is always in earnest. Though, somehow, his earnestness has not brought him much good so far. If we fail, it will not be for want of thought and preparation on his part. Nearly a week went by before Mayor returned again, and meanwhile Benita made ready for her journey. In the intervals of her simple preparations, also she talked a good deal, with the help of her father, to the three stately-looking Makalanga,

who were resting, thankfully, after their long journey. Their conversation was general, since, by tacit consent, no first. the mention was made of the treasure or of anything to do with it. But it enabled her to form a fair opinion of them and their people. She gathered that although they spoke a dialect of Zulu, they had none of the bravery of the Zulus, and indeed lived in deadly terror of the Matabili,

who are bastard Zulus. Such terror, in fact, that she greatly doubted whether the hundred rifles would be of much use to them, should they ever be attacked by that tribe. They were what their fathers had been, before them, agriculturalists and workers in metals, not fighting men. Also, she set herself to learn what she could of their tongue, but she did not find difficult, for Benita had a natural aptitude for languages, and had never forgotten the Dutch and Zulu

she used to prattle as a child, which now came back to her very fast. Indeed, she could already talk fairly in either of those languages, especially as she spent her spare hours in studying their grammar and reading them. so the days went on till one evening jacob maya appeared with two scotch carts laden with ten long boxes that looked like coffins and other smaller boxes which were very heavy to say nothing of a multitude of stores as mr cliff had prophesied he had forgotten nothing for he even brought benita various articles of clothing and a revolver for which she had not asked three days later they trekked away from roy crants upon a peculiarly beautiful sunday morning in the early spring giving it out that they were going upon a trading and shooting expedition in the north of the transvaal benita looked back at the pretty little stead and the wooded cloof behind it over which she had nearly fallen and the placid lake in front of it where the nesting wildfowl wheeled and sighed for to her now that she was leaving it the place seemed seemed like home and it came into her mind that she would never see it anymore.

End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 of the Spirit of Bambatsi by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivoct recording is in the public domain. Bambatsy Nearly four months had gone by, when, at length, the wagon with which were Mr. Clifford, Benita, and Jacob Meier, camped one night within the country of the Molimo of Bambatsi, whose name was Mambo,

or perhaps that was his title, since, according to Tamas' son, every chief in succession was called Mambo, though not all of them were Molimots, or representatives and prophets of God, or the great spirit whom they knew as Munwali. Thus sometimes the Molimo, or priest of Munwali, and the Mambo or chief were different persons.

For instance, he said that he, Tamas, would be Mambo on his father's death, but no visions were given to him. Therefore, as yet, at any rate, he was not called to be Molymo. In the course of this long journey, they had met with many adventures, such as were common to African travellers

before the days of railroads, adventures with wild beasts and native tribes, adventures with swollen rivers also, and one that was worse was thirst, since for three days, owing to the failure of a pit-off, pan where they expected to find water, they were obliged to go without drink. Still, none of these were very serious, nor had any of the three of them ever been in better

health than they were at this moment, for by good luck they had escaped all fever. Indeed, their rough wild life had agreed with Benita extraordinarily well, so well as any who had known her in the streets of London would have scarcely recognised her as the sunburnt active and well-formed young woman who sat that night by the campfire. All the horses they had brought with them had been sold, except some which had died, and three that were salted, or proof against the deadly horse sickness which they took on with them.

Their own servants also had been sent back to Roy Krantz, in charge of a Scotch cart laden with ivory, purchased from boar hunters, who had brought it down from the north of the Transfarl. Therefore, for this was part of the bargain, the three Makalanga were now their only attendants who drove and herded the cattle, while Benita cooked the food which the two white men shot

or sometimes bought from natives. For days they had been passing through a country that was practically deserted, having crossed a high neck, the same on which Robert Seymour had left his wagon. They were camped in low land, which, as they could see by the remains of walls that appeared everywhere, had once been extensively enclosed and cultivated.

To their right was a rising mountainous ground, beyond which, said the Makalanga, ran the Zambezi, and in front of them, not more than ten miles away, a great isolated hill, none other than the place that they had journeyed so far to reach, Bambatsi, round which flowed the great river. Indeed, thither, one of the three Makalanga, he who was named Hoba had gone on to announce their approach. They had outspanned amongst ruins, most of them circular in shape, and Benita, studying them in the bright moonlight, guessed that once these had been houses. That place now so solitary, hundreds or thousands of years ago, was undoubtedly the home of a great population. Thousands rather than hundreds, she thought, since close at hand in the middle

of one of those round houses grew a mighty Beobab tree that could not have seen less than ten or fifteen centuries since the seed when it sprang pierced the cement floor which was still visible about its giant bowl. Tamas, the Molimo's son, saw her studying these evidences of antiquity and approaching saluted her. Lady, he said in his own language, which by now she spoke very well. Lady, and he waved his hand with a fine gesture. Behold, the city of my people. How do you know that it was their city? She asked. I do not know, Lady, stones cannot speak. The spirits are silent and we have forgotten. Still, I think so, and our fathers have told us that but six or eight generations ago many folk lived here, though it was not they who built

these walls. Even fifty years ago there were many, but now the Matabili have killed. them and we are few tomorrow you will see how few come here and look and he led her through the entrance of a square cattle kraal which stood close by within were tufts of rank grass and a few bushes and amongst these scores of skulls and other bones the matabili killed these in the time of masilikatee he said now do you wonder that we who remain fear the matabili and desire guns to defend ourselves from them even if we must sell our secrets in order to buy those guns, who have no money to pay for them. No, she answered, looking at the tall, dignified man, into whose souls the irons of fear and

slavery had burnt so deep. No, I do not wonder. Next morning at daybreak they trekked on, always through these evidences of dead-forgotten peoples. They had not more than ten miles to cover to reach their long journey's end, but the road, if so it's, could be called, ran uphill, and the oxen, whereof only fourteen were now left to drag the heavy-laden wagon, were thin and foot-saw, so that their progress was very slow. Indeed, it was past midday, when at length they began to enter what, by apology, might be called the town of Bambatsi. If any we go away from this, it will have to be by water, I think, unless we can buy

trek cattle, said Mayor, looking at the labouring oxen with a doubtful eye. Why? asked Mr. Clifford anxiously. Because several of those beasts have been bitten by Tsefly. Like my horse, and the poison is beginning to work. I thought so last night, but now I am sure. Look at their eyes. It was down in that bit of bush felt eight days ago. I said that we ought not to camp there.

At this moment they came to the crest of the ridge, and on its further side saw the wonderful ruins of Bambatsay close at hand. In front of them stood. a hill jutting out as it were into the broad waters of the Zambezi River, which to a great extent protected it upon three sides. The fourth, that opposite to them, except at one place where a kind of natural causeway led into the town, was also defended by nature, since here for more than fifty feet in height the granite rock of the base of the hill rose sheer and unclimable, on the mount itself, that in all may have covered eight or ten acres,

of ground and surrounded by a deep donga or ditch, with three rings of fortifications, set one above the other, mighty walls, which, it was evident, had been built by no modern hand. Looking at them, Benita could well understand how it came about that the poor fugitive Portuguese had chosen this as their last place of refuge,

and were overcome at length, not by the thousands of savages who followed and surrounded them, but by hunger. Indeed, the place seemed impregnable to any force that was not armed with siege guns. On the hither side of this natural foss, which doubtless in ancient times had been filled with water, led from the Zambezi, stood the village of the Bambatsimagalanga, a collection of 70 or 80 wretched huts, round like those of their forefathers, but built of mud and thatch. About them lay the gardens or square fields that were well-coloured, and had this season rich with ripening corn.

Benita, however, could see no cattle, and concluded, therefore, that these must be kept on the hill for safety and within its walls. Down the rough road they lumbered, and through the village where the few women and children stared at them in a frightened way. Then they came to the causeway, which on its further side was blocked with thorns and rough stones

taken from the ruins. While they waited for these to be, removed by some men who now appeared. Benita looked at the massive circular wall, still 30 or 40 feet in height, by perhaps 20 through its base, built of granite's blocks without mortar, and ornamented with quaint patterns of other coloured stones. In its thickness she could see grooves, where evidently had once been port cullises, but these had disappeared long ago. "'It is a wonderful place,' she said to her father. I'm glad that I came. Have you been all over it?

No, only between the first and second walls, and once between the second and third. The old temple, or whatever it is, is on the top, and into that they would never admit us. It is there that the treasure lies. That the treasure is supposed to lie, she answered with a smile. But, father, what guarantee have you that they will do so now? Perhaps they will take the guns and show us the door,

or rather the gate. Your daughter is right, so it is none, and before a box is taken off the wagon, we must get one, said Mayor. Oh, I know it is risky, and it would have been better to make sure first, but it is too late to talk of that now. Look, the stones are cleared. Trek on, trek! The long wagon whip cracked,

the poor tired-out oxen strained at the yolks, and on they went through the entrance of that fateful fortress, that was but just wide enough to admit them. Inside, they a great open space, which as they could see from the numerous ruins had once been filled with buildings that now were half hidden by grass, trees and creepers. This was the outer ring of the temple,

where in ancient days the priests and captains had their home. Travelling across it for perhaps 150 yards, they came near the second wall, which was like the first, only not quite so solid, and saw that on a stretch of beaten ground, and seated in the shadow, for the day was hot, the people of Bambatsi were gathered to greet them.

When within fifty yards, they dismounted from the horses, which were left with the wagon in the charge of the Macalanga Tamala. Then Benita, taking her position between her father and Jacob Mea, they advanced towards the ring of natives, of whom there may have been nearly two hundred. all of them adult men. As they came, except one figure who remained seated with his back against the wall,

the human circle stood up as a token of respect, and Benita saw that they were of the same stamp as the messengers, tall and good-looking, with melancholy eyes and a cowed expression, wearing the appearance of people who from day to day live in dread of slavery and death. Opposite to them was a break in the circle, through which Tamas led them, and as they crossed it, Benita felt that all those people were staring at her with their sad eyes. A few paces from where the man crouched against the wall, his head hidden by a beautifully worked blanket that was thrown over it, were placed three well-carved stools. Upon these, at a motion from Tamas, they sat themselves down,

and, as it was not dignified for them to speak first, remained silent. "'Be patient and forgive,' said Tamas at length. "'My father, Mambo, praised to the Manwali, "'and the spirits of his fathers that this coming of yours may be fortunate, "'and that a vision of those things that are to be may descend upon him.' Benita, feeling nearly two hundred pairs of eyes concentrated upon her, wished that the vision might come quickly, but after a minute or two fell into tune with the thing

and almost enjoyed this strange experience. Those mighty ancient walls built by hands unknown, which had seen so much history and so much death, the silent triple ring of patient, solemn men, the last descendants of a cultured race, the crouching figure hidden beneath the blanket, who imagined himself to be communing with his God. It was all very strange,

very well worth the seeing to one who had wearied of the monotony of civilization. Look, the man stirred and threw back his blanket, revealing a head white with age, a spiritual acetic face, so thin as every bone showed in it, and dark eyes which stared upwards unseeingly like those of a person in a trance.

Thrice he sighed while his tribesmen watched him. Then he let his eyes fall upon the three white people seated in front of him. first he looked at Mr Clifford and his face grew troubled, then at Jacob Meier, and it was anxious and alarmed. Lastly, he stared at Benita, and while he did so, the dark eyes became calm and happy. "'White maiden,' he said, in a soft low voice,

"'for you at least I have good tidings. "'Though death come near to you, "'though you see him on your right hand at your left, and in front of you and behind you, I say fear not, hear you, who have known deep sorrow, shall find happiness and rest, do maiden, with whom goes the spirit of one pure and fair as you, who died so long ago. Then, while Benita wondered at his words, spoken with such sweet earnestness, that although she believed nothing of them, they brought a kind of comfort to her,

He looked once more at her father and Jacob Meyer, and as it were with an effort, was silent. "'Have you no pleasant prophecy for me, old friend?' said Jacob, who have come so far to hear it. At once the aged face grew inscrutable. All expression vanished behind a hundred wrinkles, and he answered, "'None white man, none that I am charged to deliver. search the skies for yourself, you who are so wise, and read them if you can. Lord, he went on in another voice, I greet you in the name and presence of my children. Son, Thomas, I greet you also.

You have done your mission well. Listen now, you are weary and would rest and eat. Still, bear with me, for I have a word to say. Look behind you. You see all my tribe, not twenty times ten above the age of boys. We who once were countless as the leaves on yonder trees in spring. Why are we dead?

Because of the Amanda Mili, those fierce dogs whom two generations ago Morsilikatsi, the general of Shaka, brought up to the south of us, who ravish us and kill us year by year, We are not warlike, we who have outlived war and the lust of slaying. We are men of peace who desire to cultivate the land, and to follow our arts which have descended to us from our forefathers,

and to worship the heavens above us, whither we depart to join the spirits of our forefathers. But they are fierce and strong and savage, and they come up and murder our children and old people, and take away the young women and the maidens to be slaves, and with them all our cattle. Where are our cattle? Loengula, chief of the Amanda Mili, has them.

Scarce a cow is left to give milk to the sick or the motherless babe, and yet he sends for cattle. Tribute, say his messengers, deliver tribute, or my impi will come and take it with your lives. but we have no cattle, all are gone. We have nothing left to us but this ancient mountain, and the works built thereon, and a little corn on which we live.

Yes, I say it, I the Molimo, whose ancestors were great kings, I who have still more wisdom in me than all the hosts of the Amanda Beale. And as he spoke, the old man's grey head sank upon his breast, and the tears ran down his withered cheeks, while his people answered, Bambo, it is true.

Now listen again, he went on. Lovengulat threatens us. Therefore I sent to these white men who were here before, saying that if they would bring me a hundred guns and powder and ball to enable us to beat off the Amanda Beale from behind these strong walls of ours, I would take them into it. the secret holy place, where for six generations no white man has set afoot, and there suffer them

to search for the treasure which is hid therein. No man knows where, that treasure which they asked leave to find four winters gone. We refused it then and drove them hence, because of the curse laid upon us by the white maid who died. The last of the Portuguese, who foretold her people's fate for us if we gave up the buried gold, save to one appointed. My children, the spirit of Bambatsi, has visited me. I have seen her, and others have seen her. And in my sleep she said to me, suffer the men to come and search, for with them is one of the blood, to whom my people's wealth is given, and great is your danger, for many spears draw nigh. my children I sent my son and other messengers on a far journey to where I knew the men dwelt

and they have returned after many months bringing those men with them bringing with them also another of whom I know nothing yes her who is appointed her of whom the spirit spoke then he lifted his withered hand and held it towards Benita saying I tell you that yonder she sits, for whom the generations have waited. It is so, answered the Macalanga. It is the white lady come again to take her own. Friends, asked the Mollimo, while they wondered at his strange speech. Tell me, have you brought the guns?

Surely, answered Mr. Clifford. They are there in the wagon, every one of them, the best that can be made, and with them ten thousand cartridges bought at a great cost. We have fulfilled our share of the bargain. Now, will you fulfil yours, or shall we go away again with the guns, and leave you to meet the Matabili with your assegais? Say you the agreement, while we listen, answered the Molimo.

Good, said Mr. Clifford. It is this, that you shall find us food and shelter while we are with you, that you shall lead us into the secret's place at the head of the hill where the Portuguese died and the gold. is hidden, that you shall allow us to search for that gold, when and where we will, that if we discover the gold or anything else of value to us, you shall suffer us to take it away and assist us upon our journey, either by giving us boats and banning them to travel down the Zambezi, or in whatever fashion may be most easy, that you shall permit none to hurt, molest or annoy us

during our sojourn among you. Is that our contract? Not quite all, of it, said the Molimo. There is this to add, first, that you shall teach us how to use the guns. Secondly, that you shall search for and find the treasure, if so it is appointed without our help, since in this matter it is not lawful for us to meddle. Thirdly, that if the Amanda Beely should chance to attack us while you are here, you shall do your best to assist us against their power. Do you then expect attack? asked Mayor, suspiciously. White man, we always expect attack. Is it a bargain?

Yes, answered Mr Clifford and Jacob Mayor in one voice. The latter adding, Zuguns and the cartridges are yours. Lead us now to the hidden place. We have fulfilled our part. We trust to the honour of you and all your people to fulfil yours. White Maiden, asked the Mollymou, addressing Benita.

Do you also say that it is a bargain? What my father says, I say. Good, said the Mollimo. Then in the presence of my people, and in the name of the Manuali, I, Mambo, who am his prophet, declare that it is so agreed between us, and may the vengeance of the heavens fall upon those who break our pact.

Let the oxen of the white men be outspanned, their horses fed, their wagon unloaded, that we may count the guns. Let food be brought into the guesthouse also, and after they have eaten, I, who alone of all of you have ever entered it, will lead them to the holy place, that there they may begin to search for that which the white men desire

from age to age, to find it if they can, if not, to depart satisfied and, at peace. End of chapter 8. Chapter 9 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Rider Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The Oath of Maduna.

Mr. Clifford and Mayer rose to return to the wagon in order to superintend the unyoking of the oxen and to give directions as to their herding and the off-saddling of the horses. Benita rose also, wondering when the food that had been promised would be ready, for she was hungry. Meanwhile, the Molimo was greeting his son Tamas,

patting his hand affectionately and talking to him, when suddenly Benita, who watched this domestic scene with interest, heard a commotion behind her. Turning to discover its cause, she perceived three great men clad in full war panoply, shields on their left arms, spears in their right hands, black ostrich plumes rising from the polished rings woven in their hair.

Black mouchas about their middles, and black ox-tails tied beneath their knees, who marched through the throng of Makalanga as though they saw them not. The Matabili! The Matabili are on us, cried a voice, while other voices shouted, fly to your walls! And yet others, kill them! They are few! But the three men marched on unheeding, till they stood before Mambo. Who are you, and what do you seek? The old man asked boldly,

though the fear that had taken hold of him at the sight of these strangers was evident enough, for his whole body shook. Surely you should know, Chief of Bambatsi, answered their spokesman with a laugh. For you have seen the like of us before. We are the children of Lobengula, the great elephant, the king, the black bull,

the father of the Amanda Beale, and we have a message for your ear, little old man, which, finding that you leave your gate open, we have walked in to deliver. Speak your message then, envoys of Lobengula, in my ear and in those of my people, said the Mollimo.

Your people, are these all your people? The spokesman replied contemptuously. Why then? What need was there for the indunus of the king to send so large an impi under a great general against you when a company of lads armed with sticks would have served the turn?

We thought that these were but the, the sons of your house, the men of your own family, whom you had called together to eat with the white strangers. Close the entrance in the wall, cried the molymo, stung to fury by the insult, and a voice answered, Father, it is already done. But the Matabili, who should have been frightened, only laughed again, and their spokesman said, See, my brothers, he thinks to trap us, who are but three. Well, kill on old wizard, if you will.

but know that if a hand is lifted this spear of mine goes through your heart and that the children of lobingula die hard know also that then the impi which waits not far away will destroy you every one man and woman youth and maiden little ones who hold the hand and infants at the breast none shall be left none at all to say here once lived the cowardly macalanga of bambhseh nay be not foolish but taught softly with us so that perhaps we may spare your lives then the three men placed themselves back to back in such a fashion that they faced every way and could not be smitten down from behind and waited I do not kill envoys said the Mullimo but if they are foul-mouthed I throw them out of my walls your message men of the Amanda Bile I hear you harken now to the word of Lovengoula then the envoy began to speak using the pronoun i as though it were the matabili king himself who spoke to his vassal the macalanga chief

i sent you last year you slave who dare to call yourself mambo of the macalanga demanding a tribute of cattle and women and warning you that if they did not come i would take them they did not come but that time i spared you now i send again hand over to my methammed you and i send again hand over to my methammed you passengers fifty cows and fifty oxen with herds to drive them and twelve maidens to be approved by them or i wipe you out who have troubled the earth too long and that before another moon has waned "'Those are the words of Lovengoula,' he concluded, "'and taking the horn's snuff-box from the slit in his ear, "'helped himself, then insolently passed it to the Molimo. "'So great was the old chief's rage, "'that, forgetting his self-control, "'he struck the box from the hand of his tormentor to the ground,

"'where the snuff lay spilled. "'Just so shall the blood of your people be spilled, "'through your rash foolishness,' said the messenger calmly, as he picked up the box and as much of the snuff as he could save. "'Harken,' said the mullimaux in a thin, trembling voice, "'your king demands cattle, knowing that all the cattle are gone, "'that scarce a cow is left to give drink to a motherless babe. "'He asks for maidens also,

"'but if he took those he seeks, "'we should have none left for our young men to marry. "'And why is this so? "'It is because the vulture Lobengula has picked us to the bone. Yes, while we are yet alive he has torn the flesh from us. Year by year his soldiers have stolen and killed

till at last nothing is left of us. And now he seeks what we have not got to give in order that he may force a quarrel upon us and murder us. There is not left for us to give Lobengula. You have your answer. Indeed, replied the envoy with a sneer. How comes it then, that yonder I see a wagon laden with goods and oxen in the yokes?

Yes, he repeated with meaning, with goods whereof we have known the like at Bulaweo, for L'engula also sometimes buys guns from white men, O little Mcalanga. Come now, give us the wagon with its load and the oxen and the horses, and though it be but a small gift, we will take it away and ask nothing more this year. How can I give you the property of my guests, the white men? Asked the Mollimo, get you gone and do your worst, or you shall be thrown from the walls of the fortress. Good, but know that very soon we shall return,

and make an end of you, who are tired of these long and troublesome journeys to gather so little. Go, tend your corn, dwellers in Bambatsi, for this I swear in the name of Lobengula, never shall you see it ripen more. Now the crowd of listening Makalanga trembled at his words, but in the old Molimo they seemed only to rouse a storm of prophetic fury. For a moment he stood staring up at the blue sky,

his arms outstretched as though in prayer. Then he spoke in a new voice, a clear, quiet voice that did not seem to be his own. Who am I? he said, I am the Molimo of the Bambatsi Makalanga. I am the ladder between, them and heaven. I sit on the topmost bough of the tree under which they shelter, and there in the crest of the tree Manuali speaks with me. What to you are winds, to me our voices, whispering in my

spirit's ears. Once my forefathers were great kings, they were mambos of all this land, and that is still my name and dignity. We lived in peace, we laboured, we did wrong to know man. Then you Zulu savages came upon us from the southeast and your path was red with blood. Year after year you robbed and you destroyed. You raided our cattle, you murdered our men, you took our maidens and our children to be your women and your slaves. Until at length of all this pit filled with the corn of life,

there is left but a little handful. And this you say you will eat up also. lest it should fall into good ground and grow again i tell you that i think it will not be so but whether or no that happens i have words for the ear of your king a message for a message say to him that thus speaks the wise old molymo of bambatsi i see him hunted like a wounded hyena through the rivers in the deep bush and over the mountain i see him die in pain and misery but his grave i see not for no man shall know it i see the white men take his land and all his wealth yea to them and to no son of his shall his people give the bayete the royal salute of his greatness and his power this alone shall remain to him a name accursed from generation to generation and last i see peace upon the land and upon my children's children he paused then added for you cruel dog that you are this message also from the munwali by the lips of his molymo i lift no hand against you you shall not live to look again upon your king face. Be gone now, and do your worst. For a moment, the three Matabili seemed to be frightened,

and Benita heard one of them say to his companions, The wizard has bewitched us, he has bewitched the great elephant and all his people, shall we kill him? But quickly shaking off his fears, their spokesman laughed and answered, So that is what you have brought to the white people here for, old traitor, to plot against the throne of Lovengoula. He wheeled round and stared at Mr. Clifford and Jacob Mayer, then added, Good, grey-beard and black-beard, I myself will put you both to such a death as you have never heard of,

and as for the girl, since she is well-favoured, she shall brew the king's beer and be numbered among the king's wives, unless, indeed, he is pleased to give her to me. In an instant the thing was done. At the man's words about Benita, Mayer, who had been listening to his threats and bombast, unconcerned, suddenly seemed to awake. His dark eyes flashed, his pale face turned cruel,

snatching the revolver from his belt, he seemed to point and fire it with one movement, and down, dead or dying, whence the Matabili. Men did not stir, they only stared. accustomed as they were to death in that wild land, the suddenness of this deed surprised them. The contrast between the splendid brutal savage who had stood before them a moment ago

and the limp black thing going to sleep upon the ground was strange enough to move their imaginations. There he lay, and there over him, the smoking pistol in his hand, Mayer stood and laughed. Benita felt that the act was just and the awful punishment deserved, yet that laugh of Jacob's jarred upon her, for in it she thought she heard the man's heart speaking,

and oh, its voice was merciless, surely justice should not laugh when her sword falls. Behold now, said the Mollimo in his still voice, pointing at the dead Matabili with his finger, Do I speak lies, or is it true that this man shall not look more upon his king's face? Well, as it was with the servant, so it shall be with the Lord, only more slowly. It is the decree of the Munwali spoken by the voice of his mouth, the Molimo of Ambatsy. Go, children of Lobengula, and bear with you as an offering this first first first.

fruit of the harvest that the white men shall reap among the warriors of his people. The thin voice died away, and there was silence so intense that Benita thought she heard the scraping of the feet of a green lizard which crept across a stone a yard or two away. Then, of a sudden, it ended. Of a sudden, the two remaining Matabili turned and fled for their lives, and as, when dogs run, a flock of sheep will wheel about and pursue them, so did the Macalanga. They grabbed at the messengers with their hands, tearing their finery from them. They struck them with sticks, they pounded them with stones, till at length two bruised and bleeding men, finding all escape cut off, and led perhaps by some instinct, staggered back to where

Benita stood, horrified at this dreadful scene, and throwing themselves upon the ground, clutched her dress and prayed for mercy. "'Move a little Miss Clifford,' said Mayor. "'Three of those brutes will not weigh heavier than one upon my conscience.' "'No, no, you shall not,' she answered. "'Mambo, these men are messengers. Spare them.' "'Harken to the voice of pity,' said the old prophet, spoken in a place where pity never was and not in vain.

Let them go. Give mercy to the merciless, for she buys their lives with prayer. They will bring the others on us, muttered Thomas, and even old Mr. Cliff had shook his head sadly. But the Molymo only said, I have spoken, let them go. That which will befall must befall,

and from this deed no ill shall come. that would not have come otherwise no you hear depart swiftly said benita in zulu with difficulty the two men dragged themselves to their feet and supporting each other stood before her one of them a clever powerful-faced man whose hair was tinged with gray addressing himself to benita gasped hear me that fool there and he pointed to his dead companion whose boasting brought his death upon him was but our low fellow. I, who kept silence and let him talk, and Maduna, a prince of the royal house, who justly deserve to die because I turned my back upon these dogs. Yet I and my brother here, take life at your hands, lady, who, now that I have had time to think, would refuse it at theirs. But whether I stay or go does not matter. The impi waits, the slayers are beneath the walls. Those things which are decreed will happen. There, yonder old wizard speaks true. Listen, lady, should it chance that you have caused to demand two lives at the hands of

Maduna, in his own name and the name of his king he promises them to you. In safety shall they pass, they and all that is theirs without toll taken. Remember the oath of Maduna, lady, in the hour of your need. And do you, my brother, witness to it among our people. Then, straightening themselves as well as they were able, these two sorely hurt men lifted their right arms and gave to Benita the salute due to a chieftainess. This done, taking no note of any other creature there,

they limped away to the gates that had been opened for them and vanished beyond the wall. All this while Maya had stood silent. Now he spoke with a bitter smile. charity miss glifford said a certain paul as reported in your new testament covers a multitude of sins i hope very much that it will serve to cover our remains from the arse-fogles after we have met our death in some such fashion as that brute promised us pointed to the dead man benita looked at her father in question mr maya means my dear that you have done a foolish thing in begging the lives of those matabeele it would have been safer for us all if they were dead. Who, as it is, have gone off burning for revenge?

Of course I understand it was natural enough, but... And he hesitated and stopped. The chief did not say so, broke in Benita with agitation. Besides, if he had, I should not have cared. It was bad enough to see one man killed like that. And she shivered. I could not bear any more. You should not be angry at the fellow's death.

seeing that it was what he said of you which brought it upon him mayor replied with meaning otherwise he might have gone unharmed so far as i was concerned for the rest i did not interfere because i saw it was useless also i am a fatalist like our friend the molymo and believe in what is decreed the truth is he added sharply among savages ladies are not in place why did you not say that down at Roy Kranz, Jakob, asked Mr. Clifford. You know I thought so all the while, but somehow I was overruled. Now, what I suggest is that we had better get out of this place as fast as we can, instantly, as soon as we have eaten, before our retreat is cut off. Mayer looked at the oxen which had been outspanned. Nine were wandering about, picking up what food they could, but the five which were supposed to have been bitten by Tsefly had lain down. nine worn out and footsore oxen will not draw the wagon he said also in all probability the place is already surrounded by matabili who merely let us in to be sure of the guns which their spies must have told them we were carrying

lastly having spent so much and come so far i do not mean to go without what we seek still if you think that your daughter's danger is greater within these walls than outside of them you might try if we can hire servants which i doubt or possibly if any rowers are to be had you could go down the zambizi in a canoe risking the fever you and she must settle it clifford difficulties and dangers every way one looks benita what do you say asked her father distractedly benita thought a moment she wished to escape from mr maya of whom she was weary and afraid and would have endured much to do so on the other hand her father was tired out and needed rest also to turn his back on this venture now would have been a bitter blow to him moreover lacking cattle and men how was it to be done lastly something within her that same voice which had bidden her to come seemed to bid her to stay very soon she had made up her mind father dear she said thank you for thinking of me but as far as i can see we should run more risks trying to get away than we do in stopping here i wanted to come though you warned me against it and now i must take my chance and trust to God to bring us safe through them all. Surely, with all those rifles, the Macalanga ought to be able to hold such a place as this

against the Matabili. I hope so, answered her father, but they are a timid folk. Still, though it would have been far better never to have come, I think with you that it is best to stay where we are and trust to God. End of Chapter 9. Chapter 10 of the Spirit of Bambatsy,

by H. Rider Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The Mountain Top If our adventurers, or any of them, hoped that they were going to be led to the secret places of the fortress that day, they were destined to disappointment. Indeed, the remainder of it was employed arduously enough

in unpacking rifles and a supply of ammunition, also in giving to a few of the leading Macalanga preliminary lessons in the method of their use, a matter as to which their ideas were of the vaguest. The rest of the tribe, having brought their women and children into the outer enclosure of the ancient stronghold, and with them their sheep and goats

and the few cattle which remained to them were employed in building up the entrance permanently with stones. A zigzag secret path upon the riverside that could be stopped in a few minutes, being now their only method of ingress and egress through the thickness of the walls. A certain number of men also were sent out as spies to discover,

if possible, the whereabouts of the Matabili impi. That there was some impi they were almost sure, for a woman who had followed them reported that the injured captain Maduna and his companion had been met at a distance of about three miles from Bambatsi by a small party of Matabili who were hiding in some bushes, and that these men had made litters for them and carried them away,

whither she did not know, for she had not dared to pursue them further. That night Benita passed in the guesthouse, which was only a hut, rather larger than the others, while the two men slept in the wagon just outside. She was so tired that for a long while she could not rest. Her mind kept flying back to all the events of the day,

the strange words of that mystic old Mullimul concerning herself, the arrival of the brutal messengers, and the indaba that followed, then the sudden and awful destruction of their spokesman at the hand of Jacob Meier. The scene would not leave her eyes, she saw it again and yet again, the quick transformation of Meier's indifferent face

when the soldier began to insult and threaten her, the lightning-like movement of his hand, the flash, the report, the change from life to death, and the slayers' cruel laugh. He could be very terrible, Jacob Meier, his passions were roused. And what had aroused them then? She could not doubt that it was herself.

Not mere chivalry towards a woman, even if he were capable of chivalry. Merely for that he would never have taken such a risk of future trouble and revenge. No, it was something deeper. He had never said anything or done anything. Yet long ago, instinct or insight had caused Benita to suspect the workings of his mind,

and now she was sure of them. The thought was terrible, worse than all her other dangers put together. True, she had her father to rely on, but he had been somewhat ailing of late. Age and those arduous journeys and anxieties had told upon him, supposing that anything were to happen to him, if he died, for instance, how dreadful her position might become, left alone, far from the reach of help, with savages and Jacob Mea. Oh, if it had not been for that dreadful shipwreck,

how different might be her lot today. Well, it was the thought of the shipwreck and of him whom she had lost therein which had driven her on to this adventure, that in it perhaps her suffering mind might be numb to rest, and now she must face its issues. God still remained above her, and she would put her trust in him.

After all, if she died, what did it matter? But that old Molymo had promised her that she was safe from death, that she should find here happiness and rest though not that of the grave he promised this speaking as one who knew of all her grief and a very little while afterwards in the case of the matabili soldier he had proved himself a prophet of awful power also she knew not how she knew not why now as before her innmost heart seemed to bear witness that this old dreamer's words were true and that for her in some strange manner unforeseen there still remained a rest comforted by this intuition at length benita fell asleep next morning when she came out of the hut benita was met by her father who with a cheerful countenance informed her that at any rate as yet there was no sign of the Matabili. A few hours later too, some spies came in, who said that for miles around nothing could be seen or heard of them.

Still, the preparations for defence went on, and the hundred best men, having been furnished with the rifles, were being drilled in the use of them by Tamas and his two companions, Tamala and Hubba, who had learned how to handle a gun very well in the course of their long journey. The shooting of these raw recruits, however, proved to be execrable. Indeed, so dangerous were they that when one of them fired at a mark set upon the wall, it was found necessary to order all the rest to lie down. As it was, a poor Treck-Ox, luckily it was sick, and two sheep were killed. For seeing a scarcity of provisions in the event of a siege,

Maya, Providence as ever, had already decreed the death of the Tetsibiton cattle. These were accordingly dispatched, and having been skinned and cut up, their flesh was severed into long strips to be dried in the burning sun as Biltong, which secretly Benita hoped she might never be called upon to eat. Yet the time was to come when she would swallow that hard, texie-poisoned flesh with thankfulness. At midday after they had eaten, Mr. Clifford and Mayor went to the Mollimo,

where he sat against the second wall, and pointing to the men, armed with guns, said, We have fulfilled our bargain. Now, fulfill yours. Lead us to the holy place that we may begin our search. So be it, he answered. Follow me, white people. Then, quite unattended, he guided them round the inner wall

till they came to a path of rock not more than a yard wide, beneath which was a precipice fifty feet or so in depth that almost overhung the river. The giddy-past, they followed for about twenty paces, to find that it ended in a cleft in the wall, so narrow that only one person could walk through it at a time. That it must have been the approach to the second stronghold was evident, however, since it was faced on either side with dressed stones,

and even the foundation granite had been worn by the human feet which had passed here for ages upon ages. This path zigzagged to and fro in the thickness of the wall till it brought them finally within its circle. A broad belt of steeply rising ground covered like that below with the tumbled ruins of buildings, amidst which grew bush and trees. Heaven's send that the gold is not buried here,

said Mr Clifford, surveying the scene. For if it is, we shall never find it. The molymo seemed to guess the meaning of his words from his face, for he answered, I think not here. The besiegers won this place, encamped in it for many weeks. I could show you where they built their fires

and tried to undermine the last wall within which the Portuguese sat about until hunger killed them, for they could not eat their gold. Follow me again. So on they went up the slope till they came to the base of the third wall, and as before passed round it,

and reached a point above the river. But now there was no passage, only some shallow and almost precipitous, steps, cut from single stones, leading from the foot of the wall to its summit, more than thirty feet above. "'Really,' said Benita, contemplating this perilous ascent with dismay, "'the ways of treasure-seekers are hard, I don't think I can, while her father also looked at them and shook his head.

"'We must get our rope,' said Mayor to the Molymo angrily. "'How can we climb that place without one, with such a gulf below?' "'I am old, but it is a little. I can climb it, answered the aged man in mild surprise, since to him, who had trodden it all his life, it seemed not difficult. Still, he added, I have a rope above, which I use upon dark nights. I will ascend and let it down. Ascend he did accordingly.

Indeed, it was a wondrous sight to see his withered legs scrambling from step to step, as unconcernedly as though he were going upstairs. No monkey could have been more agile, or more agile, or more absolutely impervious to the effects of height. Soon he vanished in, or rather through, the crest of the wall, and presently appeared again on the top step, whence he let down a stout, hide rope,

remarking that it was securely tied. So anxious was mayor to enter the hidden place of which he had dreamed so long, that he scarcely waited for it to reach his hand before he began the climb, which he accomplished safely. Then, sitting on the floor, top of the wall he directed mr clifford to fasten the end of the rope round benita's waist and her turn came it was not so bad as she expected for she was agile and the knowledge that the rope would prevent disaster gave her confidence in her very little while she had grasped ameer's outstretched hand and been drawn into safety through a kind of aperture above the top step then the rope was let down again for her father who tied it about his middle

well was it that he did so since when he was about half-way up awkwardness or perhaps loss of nerve neither of them wonderful in an old man caused his foot to slip and had it not been for the rope which maya and the molymo held he would certainly have fallen into the river some hundreds of feet below as it was he recovered himself and presently arrived panting and very pale in her relief benita kissed him and even as she did so thought again that she had been very near to being left alone with jacob maya all's well that ends well my dear he said but upon my word i am beginning to wish that i have been content with the humble prophets of horse-breeding benita made no answer it seemed too late for any useful conceivable consideration of the point. Clever men, those ancients, said Mayor. See, and he pointed out to her how, by drawing a heavy stone which still lay close by over the aperture through which they had crept, the ascent of the wall could be made absolutely impossible to any enemy,

since at its crest it was battened outwards, not inwards, as is usual in those ancient ruins. Yes, she answered, we ought to be safe enough inside here, and that's as well, since I do not feel inclined to go out again at present. Then they paused to look about them, and this is what they saw. The wall, built like those below, of unmortered blocks of stone, remained in a wonderfully good state of preservation, for its only enemies had been time, the tropical rains, and the growth of shrubs and trees, which here and there had cracked and displaced the stones.

It enclosed all the top of the hill, perhaps three acres of ground, and on it at intervals were planted soapstone pillars, each of them about twelve feet in height, and fashioned at the top to a rude resemblance of a vulture. Many of these columns, however, had been blown down, or perhaps struck by lightning, and lay broken upon the wall, or if they had fallen inward at its foot, but some, six or eight perhaps, were still standing.

Benita learned afterwards that they must have been placed there by the ancient Phoenicians, or whatever people constructed this gigantic fortification, and had something to do with the exact recording of the different seasons of the year and their subdivisions by means of the shadows which they cast. As yet, however, she did not pay much attention to them, for she was engaged in considering a more remarkable relic of antiquity which stood upon the very verge of the precipice, the wall, indeed, being built up, to its base on either side. It was the great cone of which Robert Seymour had told her,

50 feet high or more, such as once was found in the Phoenician temples. But in this case it was not built of masonry, but shaped by the hand of man out of a single gigantic granite monolith of the sorts that are sometimes to be met with in Africa, that thousands of millions of years ago had been left standing thus when the softer rock around it was worn away. way by time and weather. On the inner side of this cone were easy steps whereby it could be ascended and its top which might have been six feet in diameter was

fashioned to the shape of a cup probably for the purposes of acts of worship and of sacrifice. This extraordinary monument which except on the riverside could not be seen from below on account of the slope of the hill, lean slightly outwards, so that a stone dropped from its crest would fall into the waters of the stream. Thence it was, said the Mullimo, that my forefather saw the last of the Portuguese, the fair daughter of the great Captain Ferreira, hurl herself to death, after she had given the gold into our keeping, and laid the curse upon it, until she came again. So in my dreams have I seen and heard her also, aye, and others have seen her,

but these only from by the river far below. He paused a while, looking at Benita with his queer, dreamy eyes, then said suddenly, Say, lady, do you remember nothing of that matter? Now Benita grew vexed, for the whole thing was uncanny and jarred upon her. How can I remember, she asked,

who was born not five and twenty years ago? I do not know, he answered. How should I know, who am but an ignorant old black man, who was born not much more than 80 years ago? Yet, lady, tell me, for I seek your wisdom. Where were you born from? Out of the earth, or out of the heavens? What? You shake your head.

You who do not remember. Well, neither do I remember. Yet it is true that all circles meet somewhere, and it is true that the Portuguese maiden said she would come again. And lastly, it is true that she was such an one as you are, for she haunts this place, and I, who have seen her sitting yonder in the moonlight, know her beauty well. Yet mayhap she comes no more in flesh, but still her spirit comes. For, lady, out of those eyes of yours, I see it gay.

gaze at me come he added abruptly let us descend the wall for as you cannot remember there is more to show you have no fear the steps are easy so they went down without much difficulty since from the accumulation of rubbish and other causes the wall was a great deal lower on this side and found themselves in the usual dense growth of vegetation and brushwood through which ran a little path it led them past the ruins of buildings, whereof the use and purpose were long since forgotten, for their roofs had fallen in hundreds of thousands of years ago, to the entrance of a cave which was placed almost at the foot of the monolithic cone, but thirty or forty yards further from the circle of the wall. Here he bade them stay while he lit the lamps within. Five minutes passed and he returned, saying that all was ready. Be not afraid of what you may see, he added, for no white people that save my forefathers and myself none have entered this place since the portuguese perished here nor have we who do but come hither to pray and receive the word of the manwali have ventured to disturb it

as it was so it is come lady come she whose spirit goes with you was the last of your white race to pass this door it is therefore fitting that your feet and her spirit should be the first to enter it again benita hung back a little for the adventure was eerie then determined that she was show no fear in the presence of this old priest took the thin hand he stretched out to her and walked forward with head erect. The two men began to follow her, but the Mollimo stopped them, saying, "'Not so, the maiden enters first alone with me. It is her house, and should it please her to ask you to dwell therein? So be it, but first she must visit her house alone.' "'Nonsense,' said Mr. Clifford angrily. "'I will not have it. It will frighten her.' "'Lady, do you trust me?' asked the Mollimo. "'Yes,' she answered, adding,

"'Father, I think that you had better let me go alone. "'I'm not afraid now, and it may be wisest not to thwart him. "'This is a very strange business, not like anything else. "'And really, I think that I had better go alone. "'If I do not come back presently, you can follow.' "'Those who break in upon the sleep of the dead "'should walk gently, gently,' "'pipe the old Mollimo in a sing-song voice.

The maiden's breath is pure, the maiden's foot is light. Her breath will not offend the dead, her step will not disturb the dead. White men, white men, anger not the dead, for the dead are mighty and will be revenged upon you when you are dead. Soon, very soon, when you are dead, dead in your sorrows, dead in your sins, dead, gathered to that company of the dead, who are waiting, us here. And still chanting his mystic song, he led Benita by the hand, out of the light, onward into darkness, away from life, onward into the place of death.

End of chapter 10. Chapter 11 of the Spirit of Vambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The Sleeper's in the Cave. Like every other passage in this old fortress, the approach to the cave, was narrow and winding. Presumably the ancients had arranged them thus to facilitate their defence. After the third bend, however, Benita saw a light ahead

which flowed from a native lamp lit in the arched entrance. At the side of this arch was a shell-shaped hollow, cut in the rock about three foot above the floor. Its appearance seemed familiar to her. Why, she was soon to learn, although at the moment she did not connect it

with anything in particular. the cave beyond was large lofty and not altogether natural for its walls had evidently been shaped or at any rate trimmed by man probably here the old priests had established their oracle or place of offering at first benita could not see much since in that great cavern two lamps of hippopotamus oil gave but little light presently however her eyes became accustomed to the gloom and as they advanced up its length She perceived that save for a skin rug upon which she guessed the Mollimo Saturday's solitary devotions, and some gourds and platters for water and food, all the front part of the place appeared to be empty. Beyond in its centre stood an object of some gleaming metal, that, from its double handles and roller, borne upon supports of rock, she took to be some kind of winch, and rightly, for beneath it was the mouth of a great well, the water supply of this topmost fortification.

Beyond the well was a stone altar, shaped like a truncated cone or pyramid, and at some distance away against the far wall, as she dimly discovered by the lamp that stood upon the altar, cut in relief upon that wall indeed, a colossal cross to which, vigorously, if rudely executed in white stone, hung the image of Christ crucified,

the crown of thorns upon his drooping head. Now she understood, whatever may have been the first worship to which this place was dedicated, Christians had usurped it and set up here the sacred symbol of their faith, awful enough to look on in such surroundings. Doubtless also, the shell-shaped basin at the entrance had served the worshippers in this underground chapel as a stoop for holy water. The molymo lifted the lamp from the altar, and having adjusted its wick, held it up in front of the rude, before which, although she was no Catholic,

Benita bowed her head and crossed herself, while he watched her curiously. Then he lowered it, and she perceived that on the cemented floor lay great numbers of shrouded forms, that at first looked to her like folk asleep. He stepped to one of them and touched it with his foot, whereon the cloth with which it was covered crumbled into dust, revealing beneath a white skeleton. All those sleepers rested well indeed, for they had been dead at least two hundred years.

There they lay, men, women and children, though of the last but few. Some of them had ornaments on their bones, some were clad in armour, and by all the men were swords or spears or knives, and here and there what she took to be primitive firearms. Certain of them also had turned, turned into mummies in that dry air,

grotesque and dreadful objects from which she gladly averted her eyes. The molymo led her forward to the foot of the crucifix, where, upon its lowest step, and upon the cemented floor immediately beneath it, respectively, lay two shapes, decorously covered with shawls of some heavy material into woven with gold wire,

for the manufacturer of which the Macalanga were famous, when first the Portuguese came into contact with them. the molymo took hold of the cloths that seemed almost as good now as on the day when they were woven and lifted them revealing beneath the figures of a man and woman the features were unrecognizable although the hair white in the man's case and raven black in that of the woman remained perfect they had been great people for orders glittered upon the man's breast and his sword was gold-hilted whilst the woman's bones were adorned with costly necklaces and jewels, and in her hand it was still a book, bound in sheets of silver. Benita took it up and looked at it.

It was a missile, beautifully illuminated, which doubtless the poor lady had been reading, when at length she sank, exhausted into the sleep of death. See the Lord Ferreira and his wife, said the Molimo, whom their daughter lay thus

before she went to join them. Then, at a motion from Benita, he covered them up again with the golden cloths. Here they sleep, he went on in his chanting voice. A hundred and fifty and three of them, 150 and three, and when I dream in this place at night,

I have seen the ghosts of every one of them arise from beside their forms and come gliding down the cave, the husband with the wife, the child with the mother, to look at me and ask when the men maiden returns again to take her heritage and give them burial. Benita shuddered, the solemn awfulness of the place and seen oppressed her.

She began to think that she too saw those ghosts. "'It is enough,' she said. "'Let us be going.' So they went, and the pitiful, agonized Christ upon the cross at which she glanced from time to time over her shoulder, faded to a white blot, then vanished away in the dark, darkness, through which, from generation to generation, it kept its watch above the dead, those dead that in their despair once had cried to it for mercy and bedewed its feet with tears.

Glad, oh glad was she when she had left that haunted place behind her, and saw the wholesome light again. "'What have you seen?' asked her father and Maya in one breath, as they noted her white and frightened face. She sank upon a stone seat at the entrance of the cave, and before she could open her lips, the Molimo answered for her, The maiden has seen the dead. The spirit who goes with her has given greeting to its dead that it left so long ago. The maiden has done reverence to the white one who hangs upon the cross, and asked a blessing and a pardon of him, as she whose spirit goes with her, did reverence before the eyes of my forefather,

and asked a blessing and a pardon ere she cast herself away, and he pointed to the little golden crucifix, which hung upon Benita's bosom, attached to the necklace which Tamas, the messenger, had given her at Roy Krantz. Now, he went on, now the spell is broken, and the sleepers must depart to sleep elsewhere.

Enter white men, Enter if you dare, and ask for pardon and for blessing if it may be found, and gather up the dry bones, and take the treasure that was theirs, if it may be found, and conquer the curse that goes with the treasure for all save one, if you can, if you can, if you can. Rest you here maiden in the sweet sunshine, and follow me, white men, follow me into the dark of the dead to seek for that which the white men love and once more he vanished down the passage turning now and again to beckon to them while they went after him as though drawn against their wish for now at the last moment some superstitious fear spread from him to them and showed itself in their eyes to benita half fainting upon the stone seat for this experience had shaken her to the heart it seemed but a few minutes though really the best part of an hour had gone by when her father reappeared as white-faced as she had ever been where is mr mayor she asked

oh he answered he is collecting all the golden ornaments off those poor bodies and tumbling their bones together in a corner of the cave benita uttered an exclamation of horror i know what you mean said her father but curse the fellow he has no reverence, although at first he seemed almost as scared as I was myself. He said that as we could not begin our search with all those corpses about, they had best be got out of the way as soon as possible. Or perhaps it is because he is really afraid of them, and wanted to prove to himself that they are nothing more than dust. Benita, went on the old man, to tell you the truth I wish heartily that we had left this business alone.

I don't believe that any good will come of it, And certainly it has brought enough trouble already. That old prophet of a molymo has the second sight or something like it, and he does not hide his opinion, but keeps chuckling away in that dreadful place and piping out his promises of ill to be. He promised me nothing but good, said Benito with a little smile, though I don't see how it can happen.

But if you dislike the thing, Father, why not give it up and try to escape? It is too late, dear. he replied passionately. Mayor would never come, and I can't in honour leave him. Also, I should laugh at myself for the rest of my life, but after all, why should we not have the gold if it can be found? It belongs to nobody. We do not get it by robbery or murder.

Nuggets are of no use to Portuguese who have been dead two hundred years, and whose heirs, if they have any, it is impossible to discover. Nor can it matter to them whether they lie about, as they died or were placed after death or piled together in a corner our fears are mere churchyard superstitions which we have caught from that ghoul of a molymo don't you agree with me yes i suppose so answered benita though a fate may cling to certain things or places perhaps at any rate i think that it is of no use turning back now even if we had anywhere to turn so we may as well go through with the venture and await its end. Give me the water-bottle. I am thirsty.

A while later, and Jacob Meier appeared also, carrying a great bundle of precious objects wrapped in one of the gold sear-cloths, which bundle he hid away behind a stone. The cave is much tidier now, he said, as he flicked the thick dust which had collected on them during his unhallowed task from his hands and hair and garments.

Then he drank greedily. and asked, Have you two made any plans for our future researches? They shook their heads. Well then, I have. I thought them out while I was bone-carting, and here they are.

It is no use our going down below again. For one thing, the journey is too dangerous and takes too long. And for another, we are safer up above where we have plenty to do. But, said Benita, how about things to eat and sleep on and the rest? "'Simple enough, Miss Clifford, we must get them up.

"'The kaffirs will bring them to the foot of the third wall, "'and we will haul them to its top with a rope. "'Of water, it seems there is plenty in that well, "'which is fed by a spring, 150 feet down, "'and the old chain is still on the roller, "'so we only need a couple of buckets from the wagon. "'Of wood for cooking, there is plenty also, "'growing on the spot,

"'and we can camp in the cave or outside of it, as we like according to the state of the weather now do you rest here while i go down i will be back in an hour with some of the gear and then you must help me so he went and the end of it was that before nightfall they had enough things for their immediate needs and by the second night working very hard they were more or less comfortably established in their strange habitation the canvas flap from the wagon was arranged as a tent for benita the men sleeping beneath a thick-leaved tree near by close at hand under another tree was their cooking-place the provisions of all sorts including a couple of cases of square face and a large supply of bilton from the slaughtered cattle they stored with a quantity of ammunition in the mouth of the cave fresh meat also was brought to them daily and hauled up in baskets that is until there was none to bring, and with it grain for bread and green mealy's to serve as vegetables. Therefore, as the water from the well proved to be excellent and quite accessible, they were soon set up in all things necessary, and to these they added from time to time as opportunity offered.

In all these preparations the old Molimo took apart, nor, when they completed, did he show any inclination to leave them. In the morning he would descend to his people building, below, but before nightfall he always returned to the cave, where, for many years, it had been his custom to sleep, at any rate, several times a week, in the gruesome company of the dead Portuguese. Jacob Meier persuaded Mr. Clifford that his object was to spy upon them, and talked of turning him out, but Benita, between whom and the old man, had sprung up a curious friendship and sympathy prevented it, pointing out that they were much safer with the Molimo as a kind of hostage

than they could be without him, also that his knowledge of the place and of other things might prove of great help to them. So in the end he was allowed to remain, as indeed he had a perfect right to do. All this while there was no sign of any attack by the Matabili. Indeed, the fear of such a thing was to some extent dying away, and beneath a watching from the top of the wall could see that their nine remaining oxen together with the two horses for that belonging to Jacob Mea had died and the Makalanga goats and sheep were daily driven out to graze also that the women were working in the crops upon the fertile soil around the lowest wall still a strict watch was kept and at night everyone

slept within the fortifications moreover the drilling of the men and their instruction in the use of firearms went on continually under Tamas, who now, in his father's old age, was the virtual chief of the people. It was on the fourth morning, that at length all their preparations being completed, the actual search for the treasure began. First, the molymo was closely interrogated as to its whereabouts, since they thought that even if he did not know this exactly, some traditions of the facts might have descended to him,

from his ancestors. But he declared with earnestness that he knew nothing, save that the Portuguese maiden had said that it was hidden. Nor, he added, had any dream or vision ever come to him concerning this matter, in which he took no interest. If it was there, it was there, if it was not there, it was not there. It remained for the white men to search and see. For no very good reason, Mayor had concluded that the gold must have been concealed in our abyss. the cave so here it was that they began their investigations first they bethought them of the well into which it might possibly have been thrown but the fact of this matter proved very difficult to ascertain tying a piece of metal it was an old portuguese sword-hilt to a string they let it down and found that it touched water at a depth of a hundred and twenty feet and bottom at a depth of one hundred and forty-seven feet therefore there were 27 feet of water. Waiting a bucket, they sank it until it rested upon this bottom, then wound it up again several times. On the third occasion it brought up a human bone

and a wire anklet of pure gold. But this proved nothing, except that some ancient, perhaps thousands of years ago, had been thrown or had fallen into the well. Still unsatisfied, Jakub Mea, who was a most intrepid person, determined to investigate the place himself, a task of no little difficulty and danger

since proper ladders were wanting, nor, had they existed, was there anything to stand them on? Therefore it came to this, a seat must be rigged on to the end of the old copper chain and be lowered into the pit after the fashion of the bucket. But, as Benita pointed out, although they might let him down,

it was possible that they would not be able to draw him up again, in which case his plight must prove unfortunate so when the seat had been prepared an experiment was made with a stone weighing approximately as much as a man this benita and her father let down easily enough but as they anticipated when it came to winding it up again their strength was barely sufficient to the task three people could do it well but with two the thing was risky now mayor asked or rather commanded the molymo to order some of his men to help them but this the old chief refused point-blank to do first he made a number of excuses they were all employed in drilling and in watching for the matabili they were afraid to venture here and so forth at last mayor grew furious his eyes flashed he ground his teeth and began to threaten white man said the molymo when he had done. It cannot be. I have fulfilled my bargain with you. Search for the gold, find it and take it away if you can. But this place is holy. None of my tribe, save he who holds the office of Molimo for the time, may set a foot therein. Kill me if you will. I care not. But so it is, and if you kill me, afterwards they will kill you. Now, Mayor, seeing that nothing was to be gained by violence, changed his tone, and asked if he himself would help them. I am old, my strength is small, he replied, yet I will put my hand to the chain and do my best.

But if I were you, I would not descend that pit. Still, I will descend it, and to-morrow, said Amaya. End of Chapter 11. Chapter 12 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The beginning of the search. Accordingly, on the next day, the great experiment was made. The chain and ancient winding gear had been tested,

and proved to be amply sufficient to the strain. Therefore nothing remained safe for Mayor to place himself in the wooden seat with an oil lamp, and in case this should be extinguished, matches and candles, of both of which they had a large supply. He did so boldly enough, and swung out over the mouth of the pit, while the three of them clutched the handles of the winch. Then they began to lower, and slowly his white face disappeared into the black depth. At every few turns his descent was stopped that he might examine the walls of the well,

and when he was about fifty feet down he called to them to hold on, which they did, listening while he struck at the rock with a hammer, for here it sounded very hollow. At length he shouted them to lower away again, and they obeyed until nearly all the chain was out, and they knew he must be near the water. Now Benita, peeping over the edge,

saw that the star of light had vanished, his lamp was out, nor did he appear to attempt to relight it, They shouted down the well to him, but no answer coming, began to wind up as fast as they were able. It was all that their united strength could manage, and, very exhausted were they, when at length Jacob reappeared at the top.

At first from the look of him, they thought that he was dead, and had he not tied himself to the chain, dead he certainly would have been, for evidently his senses had left him long ago. Indeed, he had fallen almost out of the seat, over which his legs hung limply, his weight being supported by the hide rope beneath his arms,

which was made fast to the chain. They swung him in and dashed water over his face, till to their relief at last he began to gasp for breath, and revived sufficiently to enable them to half lead and half carry him out into the fresh air. "'What happened to you?' asked Clifford. "'Poisoned viscasses, I suppose,' Mayor answered with a groan, for his head was aching sadly.

The air is often bad at the bottom of deep wells, but I could smell or feel nothing until suddenly my senses left me. It was a near thing, a very near thing. Afterwards, when he had recovered a little, he told them at one spot deep down in the well. On the river side of it, he found a place where it looked

as though the rock had been cut away for a space of about six feet by four, and afterwards built up again with another sort of stone, set in hard mortar or cement. Immediately beneath two were socket holes, in which the ends of beams still remained, suggesting that here had been a floor or platform. It was while he was examining these rotted beams

that insensibility overcame him. He added that he thought that this might be the entrance to the place where the gold was hidden. If so, said Mr. Clifford, hidden it must remain, since it can have no better guardian than bad air. Also, floors like that are common in all wells to prevent rubbish from falling into the water,

and the stonework you saw probably was only put there by the ancients to mend a fault in the rock and prevent the wall from caving in. I hope so, said Amaya, since unless that atmosphere purifies a good deal, I don't think that even I dare go down again, and until one gets there, of that it is difficult to be sure,

though of course a lantern on a string will tell one something. This was the end of their first attempt. The search was not renewed until the following afternoon, when Amaya had recovered a little from the effects of the poisoning and the chafing of the hide ropes

beneath his arms. Indeed, from the former, he never did quite recover, since thenceforward Benita, who for her own reasons watched the man closely, discovered a marked and progressive change in his demeanour.

hitherto he had appeared to be a reserved man one who kept tight hand upon himself and if she knew certain things about him it was rather because she guessed or deduced them than because he allowed them to be seen on two occasions only had he shown his heart before her when they had spoken together by the shores of late chrissey on the day of the arrival of the messengers and he declared his ardent desire for wealth and power and quite recently when he killed the matabili envoy yet she felt certain that this heart of his was very passionate and insurgent that his calm was like the ice that hides the stream beneath which its currents run fiercely none can see whither the fashion in which his dark eyes would flash even when his pale countenance remained unmoved told her so as did other things for instance when he was recovering from his swoon the first words that passed his lips were in german of which she understood a little and she thought that they shape themselves to her name coupled with endearing epithets from that time forward he became less guarded or rather it seemed as though he were gradually losing power to control himself He would grow excited without apparent cause and begin to declaim as to what he would do when he had found the gold.

How he would pay the world back all it had caused him to suffer, how he would become a king. I'm afraid you will find that exalted position rather lonely, said Benita with a careless laugh. The next minute was sorry that she had spoken, for he answered, looking at her in a way that she did not like. Oh no, there will be a queen.

a beautiful queen whom i shall endow with wealth and deck with jewels and surround with love and worship what a fortunate lady she said still laughing but taking the opportunity to go away upon some errand at other times especially after dark he would walk up and down in front of the cave muttering to himself or singing wild old german songs in his rich voice also he made a habit of ascending the granite pillar and seating him there, and more than once called down to her to come up and share his throne. Still, these outbreaks were so occasional that her father, whose perceptions appeared to Benita to be less keen than formerly, scarcely noticed them, and for the rest his demeanour was what it had always been. Further researches in the well being out of the question, their next step was to make a thorough inspection of the chapel cave itself. They examined the walls inch by inch, tapping them with a hammer to hear if they sounded hollow but without result they examined the altar but it proved to be a solid mass of rock by the help of a little ladder they had made they examined the crucifix and discovered that the white figure on the cross had evidently been fashioned out of some heathen statue of soft limestone

for at its back were the remains of draperies and long hair which the artist had not thought it necessary to cut away also they found that the arms had been added and were of a slightly different stone, and that the weight of the figure was taken partly by an iron staple which supported the body, and partly by strong copper wire, twisted to resemble cord and painted white, which was passed round the wrists and supported the arms. This wire ran through loops of rock, cut in the traverse of the cross, that itself was only raised in relief by chiselling away the solid stone behind. Curiously enough, this part of the search was left to Mr. Clifford and Benita, since it was one that Jacob Mayer seemed reluctant to undertake. A Jew by birth, and a man who openly professed his want of belief in that

or any other religion, he yet seemed to fear this symbol of the Christian faith, speaking of it as horrible and unlucky. Yes, he who without qualm or remorse had robbed and desecrated the dead that lay about its feet. Well, the crucifix told them nothing. but as Mr. Clifford, lantern in hand, descended the ladder which Benita held, Jacob Meyre, who was in front of the altar, called to them excitedly that he had found something. "'Then it is more than we have,' said Mr. Clifford, as he laid down the ladder and hurried to him.

Mayor was sounding the floor with a staff of wood, an operation which he had only just begun after the walls proved barren. "'Listen now,' he said, letting the heavy staff drop a few paces to the right of the altar, where it produced the hard metallic clang that comes from solid stone when struck. Then he moved to the front of the altar and dropped it again,

but now the note was hollow and reverberant. Again and again he repeated the experiment till they had exactly mapped out where the solid rock ended, and that which seemed to be hollow again, a space of about eight feet square. We have got it, he said triumphantly. That's the entrance to the place where the gold is,

and the others were inclined to agree with him. Now it remained to put their theory to the proof, a task of no small difficulty. Indeed, it took them three days of hard, continual work. It will be remembered that the floor of the cave was cemented over, and first of all, this cement, which proved to be of excellent quality, being largely composed of powdered granite, must be broken up. By help of a steel crowbar, which they had brought,

with them in the wagon, that part of their task was at length completed, revealing the rock beneath. By this time Benita was confident that whatever might lie below it was not the treasure, since it was evident that the poor dying Portuguese would not have had the time or the strength to cement it over. When she told the other so, however, Maya convinced that he was on the right tack, answered that doubtless it was done by the Macalanga after the Portuguese days, as it was well known that they retained a knowledge of the building arts of their forefathers until quite a recent period, when the Matabili began to kill them out. When at length the cement was cleared away and the area swept, they discovered, for there ran

the line of it, that here a great stone was let into the floor. It must have weighed several tons. As it was set in cement, however, to lift it, even if they had the, strength to work the necessary levers proved quite impossible. There remained only one thing to be done, to cut away through. When they had worked at this task for several hours, and only succeeded in making a whole six inches deep, Mr. Clifford, whose old bones ached and whose hands were very sore, suggested that perhaps they might break it up with gunpowder. Accordingly, a pound flask of that explosive was poured into the hole which they closed over with wet

clay and a heavy rock, leaving a quill through which ran an extemporized fuse of cotton wick. All being prepared, their fuse was lit and they left the cave and waited. Five minutes afterwards, the dull sound of an explosion

reached their ears, but more than an hour went by before the smoke and fumes would allow them to enter the place, and then it was to find that the result did not equal their expectations. To begin with, the slab was only cracked, not shattered, since the strength of the powder had been expended upwards, not downwards, as would have happened in the case of dynamite, of which they had none. Moreover, either the heavy stone which they

had placed upon it, striking the roof of the cave, or the concussion of the air, had brought down many tons of rock, and caused wide and dangerous-looking cracks. Also, though she said nothing of it, it seemed to Benita that the great white statue on the cross was leaning a little further forward than it used to. So the net result of the experiment was that they were obliged to drag away great fragments of the fallen roof that lay upon the stone,

which remained almost as solid and obdurate as before. So there was nothing for it but to go on working with the crowbar. At length, towards the evening of the third day of their labour, when the two men were utterly tired out, a hole was broken through, demonstrating the fact that beneath this cover lay a hollow of some sort. Mr. Clifford, to say nothing of Benita,

who was heartily weary of the business, wished to postpone further proceedings till the morrow, but Jacob Mayo would not. So they toiled on until about eleven o'clock at night, when at length the aperture was of sufficient size to admit a man. Now, as in the case of the well, they let down a stone tied to a string to find that the place beneath was not more than eight feet deep.

Then, to ascertain the condition of the air, a candle was lowered, which at first went out, but presently burnt well enough. This point settled, they brought their ladder whereby Jacob descended with a lantern. In another minute they heard the sound of guttural German oaths rising through the hole. Mr Clifford asked what was the matter, and received the reply that the place was a tomb,

with nothing in it but an accursed dead monk, information at which Benita could not help bursting into laughter. The end of it was that both she and her father went down also, and there, sure enough, lay the remains of the old missionary in his cowl, with an ivory crucifix about his neck, and on his breast a scroll stating that he, Marco, born at Lisbon in 1438, had died at Bambatsi in the year 1503, having laboured in the empire of Monomotapa for 17 years, and suffered great hardships and brought many souls to Christ. The scroll added that it was he, who before he entered into religion, was a sculptor by trade,

that had fashioned the figure on the cross in this chapel out of that of the heathen goddess, which had stood in the same place from unknown antiquity. It ended with a request, addressed to all good Christians in Latin, that they who soon must be as he was, would pray for his soul, and not disturb his bones which rested here in the hope of a blessed resurrection.

When this pious wish was translated to Jacob Meier by Mr. Clifford, who still retained some recollection of the classics which he had painfully acquired at Eton and Oxford, the Jew could scarcely contain his wrath. Indeed, looking at his bleeding hands, instead of praying for the soul of that excellent missionary, to reach whose remains he had laboured with such arduous incessant toil, he cursed it wherever it might be,

and unceremoniously swept the bones which the document asked him not to disturb into a corner of the tomb, in order to ascertain whether there was not, perhaps, some stare beneath them. really mr mayor said benita who in spite of the solemnity of the surroundings could not control her sense of humour if you are not careful the ghosts of all these people will haunt you let them haunt me if they can he answered furiously i don't believe in ghosts and defy them all At this moment, looking up, Benita saw a figure gliding out of the darkness into the ring of light, so silently that she started, for it might well have been one of those ghosts in whom Jacob Mea did not believe. In fact, however, it was the old Molimo who had a habit of coming upon them thus. What says the white man? he asked of Benita, while his dreamy eyes wandered over the three of them

and the hole in the violated tomb. He says that he does not believe in spirits, and that he defies them, she answered. The white gold-seeker does not believe in spirits, and he defies them, Mambo repeated in his sing-song voice. He does not believe in the spirits that I see all around me now, the angry spirits of the dead, who speak together of where he shall lie,

and of what shall happen to him when he is dead, and of how they will well-react. and one who disturves their rest, and defies and curses them in his search for the riches which he loves. There is one standing by him now, dressed in a brown robe, with a dead man cut in ivory-like to that, and he pointed to the crucifix in Jacob's hand, and he holds the ivory man above him, and threatens him with sleepless centuries of sorrow, when he is also one of the whole. "'who's spirits, in which he does not believe.' "'Then Mayer's rage blazed out.

"'He turned upon the Molymo and reviled him in his own tongue, "'saying that he knew well where the treasure was hidden, "'and that if he did not point it out, "'he would kill him and send him to his friends the spirits. "'So savage and evil did he look, "'that Benita retreated a little way, "'while Mr. Clifford strove in vain to calm him. "'But although Mayer laid his hand upon,

the knife in his belt and advanced upon him, the old molymo neither budged an inch nor showed the slightest fear. Let him rave on, he said, when at length Mayor paused exhausted. Just so in a time of storm the lightnings flash and the thunder peals, and the water foams down the face of rock. But then comes the sun again, and the hill is as it has ever been. Only the storm is spent and lost. I am the rock. He is but the wind, the fire and the rain. It is not permitted that he should hurt me, and those spirits in whom he does not believe treasure up his curses to let them fall again like stones upon his head. Then, with a contemptuous glance at Jacob, the old man turned and glided back into the darkness, out of which he had appeared.

End of Chapter 12 Chapter 13 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Benita plans escape. The next morning, while she was cooking the breakfast, Benita saw Jacob Mea seated upon a rock at a little distance, sullen and disconsolate. His chin was resting on his hand,

and he watched her intently, never taking his hand. from her face. She felt that he was concentrating his will upon her, that some new idea concerning her had come into his mind, for it was one of her miseries that she possessed the power of interpreting the drift of this man's thoughts. Much as she detested him, there existed that curious link between them. It may be remembered that on the night when they first met at the crest of Leopard's Clouf, Jacob had called her a thought-sender, and some knowledge of their mental intimacy had come home to Benita. From that day forward her chief desire had been

to shut a door between their natures, to isolate herself from him and him from her. Yet the attempt was never entirely successful, that door could not be kept closed. It would swing ajar, and force her to read in this hateful book of a soul she loathed, and yet must study. Moreover, her great terror was lest he also should be able to read,

as he was read. Fear and disgust took hold of her, bending there above the fire, all the while aware of the Jews' dark eyes that searched her through and through. Benita formed a sudden determination. She would implore her father to come away with her. Jacob Mea would never cease from the hunt for that treasure

until it was found, or its further pursuit became utterly impossible. Then let him find it by himself. Of course, such an attempt would be terribly dangerous. Of the matabili nothing had been seen. Still, they might be about, and even if enough cattle could be collected to draw the wagon, it belonged to Maya as much as to her father,

and must therefore be left for him. Still, there remained the two horses which the Molimo had told her were well and getting fat. At this moment, Mayor rose and began to speak to her. What are you thinking of, Miss Clem? "'He asked in his soft foreign voice. "'She started, but answered readily enough, "'of the wood which is green,

"'and the kid cutlets which are getting smoked. "'Are you not tired of kid, Mr. Mayor?' she went on. "'He waved the question aside. "'You are so good, oh, I mean it, so really good, "'that you should not tell stories even about small things. "'The wood is not green. "'I cut it myself from a dead tree. and the meat is not smoked, nor were you thinking of either.

You were thinking of me, as I was thinking of you. But what exactly was in your mind this time? I do not know, and this is why I ask you to tell me. Really, Mr. Mayor, she answered flushing. My mind is my own property. Ah, do you say so? Now I hold otherwise that it is my property, as mine is yours, a gift that nature has given to each of us.

I seek no such gift, she answered, but even then, much as she would have wished to do so, she could not utter a falsehood and deny this horrible and secret intimacy. I am sorry for that, as I think it's very precious, more precious evens as a gold which we cannot find. For Miss Clifford, it brings me nearer to you.

She turned upon him, but he held up his hand and went on, oh do not be angry with me and do not fear that i am going to trouble you with soft speeches for i shall not unless a time should come as i think that perhaps it will then you may wish to listen to them but i want to point out something to you miss clifford is it not a wonderful thing that our minds should be so in tune and is there not an object in ozes did i believe as you do i should say that it was heaven working in us no do not answer that the working comes from lower down i take no credit for reading that upon your lips the retort is too easy and obvious i am content to say however that the work is that of instinct and nature or if you will of fate pointing out a road by which together we may travel to great ends I travel my road alone, Mr. Mayor. I know, I know, and that is the pity of it. The trouble between man and woman is that not in one case out of a million, even if they be lovers, do they understand each other?

Their eyes may seek one another, their hands and lips may meet, and yet they remain distinct apart and often antagonistic. There is no communion of the soul. But when it chances to be otherwise, when they chance to be, complete each other, to be hewn from the same rock as it were. Oh, then what happiness may be theirs, and what opportunities? Possibly, Mr. Mayor, but to be frank, the question does not interest me. Not yet, but I'm sure that one day it will. Meanwhile, I owe you an apology. I lost my temper before you last night. Well, do not judge me hardly, for I was utterly worn out,

and that old idiot vexed me with his talk about ghosts in which I do not believe. Then why did it make you so angry? Surely you could have afforded to treat it with contempt instead of doing, as you did. Upon my word, I don't know,

but I suppose most of us are afraid lest we shall be forced to accept that which we refuse. This ancient place gets upon the nerves, Miss Clifford, yours as well as mine. I can afford to, be open about it, because I know that you know. Think of its associations, or the crime that has been committed here for ages and ages, or the suffering that has been endured here. Doubtless human sacrifices were offered in this cave or outside of it. That great burnt

ring in the rock there may have been where they built the fires. Then those Portuguese starving to death, slowly starving to death, while thousands of savages watch them die. Have you ever thought what it means? But of course you have, for like myself you are cursed with imagination.

God in heaven, is it wonderful that it gets upon the nerves? Especially when one cannot find what one is looking for, that vast treasure, and his face became ecstatic, that shall yet be yours and mine, and make us

great and happy. But which at present only makes me a scholarly maid and most unhappy, replied Benita cheerfully, for she heard her father's footstep. Don't talk any more of the treasure, Mr. Mayor, or we shall quarrel. We have enough of that during business hours when we are hunting for it, you know. Give me the dish, will you? This meat is cooked at last. Still, Benita could not be rid of that treasure, because, after breakfast, the endless and profitable search began again. Once more the cave was sounded and other hollow places were discovered upon which the two men got to work. With infinite labour three of them were broken into in as many days, and, like the first, found to be graves, only this time of ancients who perhaps had died before

Christ was born. There they lay upon their sides, their bones burnt by the hot cements that had been poured over them, their gold-headed and gold-feruled rods of office in their hands, their gold-covered pillows of wood, such as the Egyptian used, beneath their skulls, gold bracelets upon their arms and ankles,

cakes of gold beneath them, which had fallen from the rotted pouches that once hung about their waists, vases of fine-glazed pottery that had been filled with offerings, or in some cases, with gold dusts to pay the expenses of their journey into the other world, standing round them, and so forth.

In their way these discoveries were rich enough. From one tomb alone they took over 130 ounces of gold to say nothing of their surpassing archaeological interest. Still, they were not what they sought, all that gathered wealth of Monomotapa which the fleeing Portuguese had brought with them and buried in this their last stronghold. Benita ceased to take the slightest interest in the matter

She would not even be at pains to go to look at the third skeleton Although it was that of a man who had been almost a giant And to judge from the amount of bullion which he took to the tomb with him A person of great importance in his day She felt as though she wished never to see another human bone Or ancient bead or bangle The sight of a street in Bayswater in a London fog Yes, of a toy show

shop window in Westbourne Grove, would have pleased her a hundred times better than these unique remains, that, had they known of them in those days, would have sent half the learned societies of Europe crazy with delight. She wished to escape from Bambatsi, its wondrous fortifications, its mysterious cone, its cave, its dead, and, from Jacob Mea. Benita stood upon the top of her prison wall, and looked with longing at the wide, open lands below. She even dared to climb the stair which ran up the mighty cone of granite and seated herself in the cup-like depression on its crest, whence Jacob Meier had called to her to come and share his throne. It was a dizzy place, for the pillar leaning outwards,

its point stood almost clear of the water-scarped rock, so that beneath her was a sheer drop of about four hundred feet to the Zambezi bed. At first the great height, the high high, made her feel faint. Her eyes swam and unpleasant tremors crept along her spine so that she was glad to sink to the floor when she knew she could not fall. By degrees however she recovered her nerve and was able to study the glorious view of stream and marshes and hills beyond. For she had come here with a purpose to see whether it would not be possible to escape down the river in a canoe or in native boats such as the Makalanga owned and used for fishing or to cross from bank to bank. Apparently it was impossible,

but although the river beneath and above them was still enough, about a mile below began a cataract that stretched as far as she could see and was bordered on either side by rocky hills, covered with a forest over which, even if they could obtain porters, a canoe could not be carried. This indeed she had already heard from the Molimo, but knowing his timid nature, she wished to judge of the matter for herself. It came to this then, if they were to go, it must be on the horses.

Descending the cone, Benita went to find her father, to whom as yet she had said nothing of her plans. The opportunity was good, for she knew that he would be alone. As it chanced on that afternoon, Maya had gone down the hill in order to try to persuade the Macalanga to give them ten or twenty men to help in their excavations. in this it will be remembered he had already failed so far as the mullimo was concerned but he was not a man easily turned from his purpose and he thought that if he could see tamus and some of the other captains he might be able by bribery threats or otherwise to induce them to forget their superstitious fears and help in the search as a matter of fact he was utterly unsuccessful since one and all they declared that for them to enter that sacred place would mean their death and that the vengeance of heaven would fall upon their tribe and destroy it root and branch. Mr Clifford, on whom all this heavy labour had begun to tell,

was taking advantage of the absence of his taskmaster, Jacob, to sleep a while in the hut which they had now built for themselves beneath the shadow of the Beobab tree. As she reached it, he came out, yawning, and asked her where she had been. Benita told him, a giddy place he said i have never ventured to try it myself what did you go up there for dear to look at the river while mr maya was away father for if he had seen me do so he would have guessed my reason indeed i dare say that he will guess it now what reason benita to see whether it would not be possible to escape down it in a boat but there is no chance it is all rapids below with hills and rocks and trees on either the bank. What need have you to escape at present? he asked, eyeing her curiously.

Every need, she answered with passion, I hate the place, it is a prison, and I loathe the very name of treasure. Also, and she paused. Also what, dear? Also, and her voice sank to a whisper, as though she feared that he should overhear her, even at the bottom of the hill. Also, I am afraid of Mr. Mayor. This confession did not seem to surprise her father, who merely nodded his head and said, "'Go on. Father, I think that he is going mad, and it is not pleasant for us to be cooped up here alone with a madman, especially when he has begun to speak to me as he does now.' "'You don't mean that he has been impertinent to you,' said the old man, flushing up,

"'for if so.' "'No, not impertinent, as yet,' as she told him what had passed between Maya and herself. adding, You see, Father, I detest this man. Indeed, I want to have nothing to do with any man. For me, all that is over and done with. And she gave a dry little sob, which appeared to come from her very heart.

And yet, he seems to be getting some kind of power over me. He follows me about with his eyes, prying into my mind, and I feel that he is beginning to be able to read it. I can bear no more. Father, Father, for God's sake, take me away from this hateful hill, and it's gold and it's dead, and let us get out into the Veltegaying together.'

"'I should be glad enough, dearest,' he answered. "'I have had plenty of this wild goose-chase, which I was so mad as to be led into by the love of wealth. Indeed, I am beginning to believe that if it goes on much longer, I shall leave my bones here.' "'And if such a dreadful thing as that were to happen, what would become of me, alone with Yaakov Mea, she asked quietly. I might even be driven to the same fate as that poor girl two hundred years ago, and she pointed to the cone of rock behind her.

For heaven's sake, don't talk like that, he broke in. Why not? One must face things, and it would be better than Jacob Mea, for who would protect me here? Mr. Clifford walked up and down for a few minutes while his daughter watched him. I can see no plan, he said. stopping opposite her. We cannot take the wagon,

even if there are enough oxen left to draw it, for it is his as much as mine, and I am sure that he will never leave this treasure, unless he is driven away. And I am sure I hope that he will not. But, Father, the horses are our own. It was his that has died, you remember? We can ride away on them.

He stared at her, and answered, Yes, we could ride away to our deaths. Suppose they got sick or late. Suppose we met the Matabili or could find no game to shoot. Suppose one of us fell ill. Oh, and a hundred things! What then? Why, then, it is just as well to perish in the wilderness as here, where our risks are almost as great. We must take our chance and trust to God. Perhaps he will be merciful and help us. Listen now, Father, tomorrow is Sunday, when you and I do no work that we can help. But Mr. Mayor is a Jew,

and he won't waste Sunday. Well now, I will say that I want to go down to the outer wall to fetch some clothes which I left in the wagon and to take others for the native women to wash. And of course you will come with me. Perhaps he will be deceived and stay behind, especially as he has been there today. Then we can get the horses and guns and ammunition

and anything else that we can carry in the way of food and persuade the old Mollimo to open the gate for us. You know, the little side-werews. that cannot be seen from up here and before mr mayor misses us and comes to look we shall be twenty miles away and horses can't be overtaken by a man on foot he will say that we have deserted him and that will be true you can leave a letter with the molymo explaining that it was my fault that i was getting ill and thought that i should die and that you knew it would not be fair to ask him to come and so to lose the treasure to every heapenie of which he is welcome when it is found "'Oh, father, don't hesitate any longer. "'Say that you will take me away from Mr. Mayor.' "'So be it then,' answered Mr. Clifford.

"'And as he spoke, hearing a sound, they looked up, "'and saw Jacob approaching them. "'Luckily, he was so occupied with his own thoughts "'that he never noted the guilty air upon their faces, "'and they had time to compose themselves a little, "'but even thus his suspicions were aroused. "'What are you talking off so earnestly?' he asked. "'We were wondering how you were getting on with the Macalanga,' answered Benita, fibbing boldly,

"'and whether you were persuade them to face the ghosts. Did you?' "'Not I,' he answered with a scowl. "'Those ghosts are our worst enemies in this place. "'The cowards swore that they would rather die. "'I should have liked to take some of them at their word and make ghosts of them, "'but I remembered the situation and didn't. "'Don't be afraid, Miss Clifford. "'I never even lost my temper.'

outwardly at any rate well there it is if they won't help us we must work the harder i've got a new plan and we begin on it to-morrow not to-morrow mr mayor replied benita with a smile it is sunday and we rest on sunday oh i forgot some agalanga is a ghost and you with your sunday really i do not know which is the worst well then i must do my own share and yours too i suppose and he turned away with a shrug of his shoulders. End of chapter 13. Chapter 14 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The flight. The next morning, Sunday, Mayor went to work on his new plan.

What it was, Benita did not trouble to inquire, but she gathered that it had something to do with the measuring out of the chapel cave into squares. for the more systematic investigation of each area. At twelve o'clock he emerged for his midday meal, in the course of which he remarked that it was very dreary working in that place alone, and that he would be glad when it was Monday, and they could accompany him.

His words evidently disturbed Mr. Clifford, not a little, and even excited some compunction in the breast of Benita. What would his feelings be, she wondered, when he found that they had run away, leaving him to deal with their joint undertaking single-handed. Almost was she minded to tell him the whole truth. Yet, and this was a curious evidence of the man's ascendancy over her,

she did not. Perhaps she felt that to do so would be to put an end to their scheme. Since then, by arguments, blandishments, threats, force, or appeal to their sense of loyalty, it mattered not which, he would bring about its abandonment. But she panes, to fulfil that scheme, to be free of Bambatsi, its immemorial ruins, its graveyard cave,

and the ghoul, Jacob Mea, who could delve among dead bones and in living hearts with equal skill and insight, and yet was unable to find the treasure that lay beneath either of them. So they hid the truth, and talked with feverish activity about other things, such as the drilling of the macalanga and the chances of an attack by the Matabee, which happily now seemed to be growing small, also of the condition of their cattle and the prospect of obtaining more to replace those that had died. Indeed, Benita went farther.

In her newfound zeal of deception, she proceeded to act a lie. Yes, even with her father's reproachful eyes fixed upon her. Incidentally, she mentioned that they were going to have an outing, to climb down the ladder and visit the Makalanga camp, between the first and second walls, and mix with the great world for a few hours. Also, to carry their washing to be done there, and bring up some clean clothes and certain books which he had left below. Jakob came out of his thoughts and calculations, and listened gloomily,

I have half a mind to come with you, he said, words at which Benita shivered, it certainly is most cursed, lonesome in that cave, and I seem to hear things in it, as though those old bones were rattling sounds, like sighs and vespers too, which are made by the draft. Well, why don't you? asked Benita. It was a bold stroke, but it succeeded. If he

had any doubts, they vanished, and he answered at once, because I have not the time. If you have to get this business finished one way or another before the vet season comes on, and we are drowned out of the place with rain or rotted by fever. Take your eyes.

afternoon out miss clifford every maid of all work is entitled to as much and i am afraid that is your billet here only he added with that care for her safety which he always showed in his more temperate moods pray be careful clifford to get back before sundown such vall is too risky for your daughter to climb in the dusk call me from the foot of it you have the whistle and i will come down to help her up i think i will go with you after all no i'm I won't. I made myself so unpleasant with them yesterday, that those Macalanga can't wish to see any more of me at present. I hope you will have a more agreeable afternoon than I shall. Why don't you take a ride outside the wall? Your horses are fat and want exercise, and I do not think that you need to be afraid of the Matabili. Then, without waiting for an answer, he rose and left them. Mr. Clifford looked after him doubtfully. "'Oh, I know,' said Benita,

"'it seems horribly mean, "'but one must do shabby things sometimes. "'Here are the bundles already, "'so let us be off.' "'Accordingly they went, "'and from the top of the wall, "'Benita glanced back "'to bid goodbye to that place

"'which she hoped never to see again, "'yet she could not feel "'as though she looked to last upon it. "'To her it wore no air of farewell, "'and even as she descended the perilous stairs, "'she found herself, making mental notes as to how they might best be climbed again. Also, she could not believe that she had done with Mr. Mayor.

It seemed to her as though for a long while yet her future would be full of him. They reached the outer fortification in safety, and there were greeted with some surprise, but with no displeasure by the Macalanga, whom they found still drilling with the rifles, in the use of which a certain number of them appeared to have become fairly proficient. Going to the hut in which the spare goods from the wagon had been stored, they quickly made their preparations.

Here also Mr. Clifford wrote a letter, one of the most unpleasant that he had ever been called upon to compose. It ran thus. Dear Mayor, I don't know what you will think of us, but we are escaping from this place. The truth is that I am not well, and my daughter can bear it no longer. She says that if she stops here she will die,

and that hunting for treasure in that ghastly graveyard is shattering her nerves. I should have liked to tell you, but she begged me not, being convinced that if I did, you would over-persuade us or stop us in some way. As for the gold, if you can find it, take it all. I renounce my share. We are leaving you the wagon and the oxen and starting down-country on our horses. It is a perilous business, but less so than staying here under the circumstances. if we never meet again we hope that you will forgive us and wish you all good fortune yours sincerely and with much regret t clifford

the letter written they saddled the horses which had been brought up for their inspection and were found to be in good case and fastened their scanty belongings and as many cartridges as they could carry in packs behind their saddles then each of them armed with a rifle for during their long journeyings benita had learned to shoot they mounted and made for the little side entrance as the main gate through which they had passed on their arrival was now built up this side entrance a mere slit in the great wall with a precipitous approach was open for now that their fear of the matabili had to some extent passed off the macalanga used it to drive their sheep and goats in and out since it was so constructed with several twists and turns in the thickness of the wall, that in a few minutes it could be effectually blocked by stones that lay at hand. Also, the ancient architect had arranged it in such a fashion that it was entirely commanded from the crest of the wall on either side. The Makalanga, who had been watching their proceedings curiously, made no attempt to stop them, although they guessed that they might have a little trouble with the sentries, who guarded the entrance all day, and even when it was

closed at night, with whom also Mr. Clifford proposed to leave the letter. When they reached the place, however, and had dismounted to lead the horses down the winding passage and the steeper sent upon its further side, it was to find that the only guard visible proved to be the old Molymo himself, who sat there, apparently half asleep. But as they came, he showed himself to be very much awake, for without moving he asked them at once whither they were going. "'To take a ride,' answered Mr. Clifford. "'The lady, my daughter, is weary of being cooped up in this fortress,

"'and wishes to breathe the air without. "'Let us pass, friend, but we shall not be back by sunset.' "'If you are coming back at sunset, white man, "'why do you carry so many things upon your packs, "'and why are your saddle-bags filled with cartridges?' he asked. "'Surely you do not speak the truth to me, "'and you hope that never more will you see the sun set, upon Bambatsi.

Now understanding that it was hopeless to deceive him, Benita exclaimed boldly, It is so, but, oh, my father, stay us not, for fear is behind us, and therefore we fly hence. And is there no fear before you, Maidan? Fear

of the wilderness where none wonder save perchance the Amanda Beelie with their bloody spears. Fear of wild beasts and of sickness that may overtake you, so that first one and then the other, you perish there. There is plenty, my father,

but none of them are so bad as the fear behind. Yonder place is haunted, and we give up our search, and would dwell there no more. It is haunted, truly, maiden, but his spirits will not harm you whom they welcome as one appointed, and we are ever ready to protect

you because of their command that has come to me in dreams. Nor indeed is it the spirits whom you fear, but rather the white man your companion who would bend you to his will deny it not for I have seen all then knowing the truth surely you will let

us go she pleaded for I swear to you that I dare not stay who am I that I should forbid you he asked yet I tell you that you would do well to stay and save yourselves much terror maiden have I not said it days and days ago that here and here only

you must accomplish your fate go now if you will but you shall return again and once more he seemed to begin to doze in the sun the two of them consulted hastily together it is no use turning back now said benita who was almost weeping with doubt and vexation i will not be frightened by his vague talk what can he know of the future more than any of the rest of us besides all he says is that we shall come back again and if that does happen at least we shall have been been free for a little while? Come, father. As you wish, answered Mr. Clifford, who seemed too miserable and depressed to argue. Only he threw down the letter upon the Mollimo's lap, and begged him to give it to Mayor when he came to look for them. The old man took no notice. No, not even when Benita bade him farewell and thanked him for his kindness, praying that all good fortune might attend him and his tribe. Did he answer a single word or even look up? so they led their horses down the narrow passage where there was scarcely room for them to pass and up the steep path beyond on the further side of the ancient ditch they remounted them while the macalanga watched them from the walls and cantered away along the same road by which they had come

now this road or rather track ran first through the gardens and then among the countless ruined houses that in bygone ages formed the great city where the city where the road or rather track ran first through the gardens and then among the countless ruined houses that in bygone ages formed the great city where whereof the Mount Bambatsi had been the citadel and sanctuary. These relics of a lost civilization extended for several miles and were bounded by a steep and narrow neck or pass in the encircling hills, the same that Robert Seymour and his brother had found too difficult for their wagon at the season in which they visited the place some years before. This pass, or port, as it is called in South Africa, had been strongly fortified, from either side of it with a ruin

of towers. Moreover, at its crest it was so narrow and steep-sided as a few men posted there, even if they were armed only with bows and arrows, could hold an attacking force in check for a considerable time. Beyond it, after the hill was descended, a bush-clad plain dotted with copiers, and isolated granite pillars, formed of bolders, piled one upon another, rolled away for many miles. Mr. Clifford and Benita had started upon their mad journey about three o'clock in the afternoon, and when the sun began to set, they found themselves upon this plain, 15 or 16 miles from Bambatsi, of which they had long lost sight, for it lay beyond the intervening hills. Near to them was a copier where they had outspanned by a spring of water when on their recent

journey, and since they did not dare to travel in the dark, here they determined to off-south for round this spring was good grass for the horses. As it chanced they came upon some Hartebista here, which were trekking down to drink, but although they would have been glad of meat, were afraid to shoot, fearing lest they should attract attention, nor for the same reason did they like to light a fire.

So, having knee-holtered the horses in such fashion that they could not wander far, and turned them loose to feed, they sat down under a tree, and made some sort of a meal off the biltong and cooked corn which they had brought with them. By the time this was finished, darkness fell, for there was little moon, so that nothing remained to do except to sleep within a circle of a few dead thorn-boughs, which they had drawn about their camp.

This then they did, and so weary were they both, that notwithstanding all the emotions through which they had passed, and their fears lest lions should attack them, for of these brutes there were many in this felt, rested soundly and undisturbed, till within half an hour of dawn. Rising somewhat chilled, for though the air was warm a heavy dew had soaked their blankets,

once more they ate and drank by starlight, while the horses which they had tied up close to them during the night filled themselves with grass. At the first break of day they saddled them, and before the sun rose were on their road again. At length, up it came, and the sight and warmth of it put new heart into Benita. Her fears seemed to depart with the night, and she said to her father that this successful start was of good augury,

to which he only answered that he hoped so. All that day they rode forward in beautiful weather, not pressing their horses, for now they were sure that Jacob Meier, who, if he followed at all, must do so on foot, would never be able to overtake them. At noon they halted, and having shot a small buck, Benita cooked some of it in the one pot that they had brought with them, and they ate a good meal of fresh meat. Riding on again towards sundown, they came to another of their old camping places, also a bush-covered copier. Here the spring of water was more than halfway up the hill, so there they off-saddled in a green bower of a place that because of its ferns and mosses looked like a rock garden. now although they had enough cold meat for food they thought themselves quite safe in lighting a fire indeed this it seemed necessary to do since they had struck the fresh spore of lions and even caught sight of one galloping away in the tall reeds on the marshy land at the foot of the hill

that evening they fared sumptuously upon venison and as on the previous day lay down to rest in a little boma or fence made of boughs but they were not allowed to sleep well this night for scarcely had they shut their eyes when a hyena began to howl about them they shouted and the brute went away but an hour or two later they heard ominous grunting sounds followed presently by a loud roar which was answered by another roar whereat the horses began to whinny in a frightened fashion "'Lions!' said Mr. Clifford, "'jumping up and throwing dead wood onto the fire "'till it burnt to a bright blaze. "'After that, all sleep became impossible, "'for although the lions did not attack them, "'having once winded the horses,

"'they would not go away, "'but continued wandering round the coppia, "'grunting and growling. "'This went on till about three o'clock in the morning, "'when at last the beast took their departure, "'for they heard them roaring in the distance, Now that they seemed safe, having first made up the fire, they tried to get some rest. When, as it appeared to her, Benita had been asleep but a little while, she was awakened by a new noise.

It was still dark, but the starlight showed her that the horses were quite quiet. Indeed, one of them was lying down, and the other eating some green leaves from the branches of the tree to which it was tethered. Therefore that noise had not come from any wild animal. of which they were afraid. She listened intently and presently heard it again. It was a murmur, like to that of people talking somewhere at the bottom of the hill. Then she woke her father and told him, but although once or twice they thought they heard the sound of footsteps,

nothing else could be distinguished. Still they rose, and having saddled and bridled the horses as noiselessly as might be, waited for the dawn. At last it came. up on the side of the coppia they were in clear air above which shone the red lights of morning but under them lay billows of dense pearl-hued mist by degrees this thinned beneath the rays of the risen sun and through it looking gigantic in that light benita saw a savage wrapped up in a caross who was walking up and down and yawning a great spear in his hand look she whispered look and mr clifford stared down the line of her outstretched finger the matabili he said my god the matabili end of chapter fourteen chapter fifteen of the spirit of bambatsy by h rider haggard this librivoct recording is in the public domain the chase the matabili it was sure enough there could be no doubt of it for soon as Soon three other men joined the sentry.

It began to talk with him, pointing with their great spears at the side of the hill. Evidently they were arranging a surprise when there was sufficient light to carry it out. They have seen our fire, whispered her father to Benita. Now, if we wish to save our lives, there is only one thing to do. Ride for it before they muster. The impi will be camped upon the other side of the hill, so we must take the road we came by. "'That runs back to Bambatsy,' faltered Benita. "'Bambatsy is better than the grave,' said her father.

"'Pray heaven that we may get there.' "'So this argument there was no answer, "'so having drunk a sup of water "'and swallowing a few mouthfuls of food as they went, "'they crept to the horses, mounted them, "'and as silently as possible, began to ride down the hill. "'The sentry was alone again, the other three men having departed,

he stood with his back towards them. Presently, when they were quite close onto him, he heard their horses' hooves upon the grass, wheeled round at the sound and saw them. Then, with a great shout, he lifted his spear and charged. Mr. Clifford, who was leading, held out his rifle at arm's length.

To raise it to his shoulder he had no time, and pulled the trigger. Benita heard the bullet clap upon the high shield, and next instant saw the Matabili warrior lying on his back, beating the air with his hands and feet. Also, she saw beyond the shoulder of the copier which they were rounding, hundreds of men marching, and behind them a herd of cattle, the dim light gleaming upon the stabbing spears and on the horns of the oxen.

She glanced to the right, and there were more men. The two wings of the impi were closing upon them, only a little lane was left in the middle they must get through before it shut come she gasped striking the horse with her heel and the butt of her gun and jerking at its mouth her father saw also and did likewise

so that the beasts broke into a gallop now from the point of each wing sprang out thin lines of men looking like great horns or nippers whose business it was to meet and cut them off could they pass between before they did meet. That was the question, and upon its answer, it depended whether or no they had another three minutes to live. To think of mercy at the hands of these bloodthirsty brutes,

after they had just killed one of their number, before their eyes, was absurd. It was true he had been shot in self-defence, but what count would savages take of that, or of the fact that they were but harmless travellers? White people were not very popular with the Matabili just then, as they knew well. Also, their murder in this remote place, with not another of their race within a couple of hundred miles, would never even be reported, and much less avenged. It was as safe as any crime could be. All this passed through their minds as they galloped towards those closing points. Oh, the horror of it! But two hundred yards to cover, and their fate would be decided. either they would have escaped at least for a while, or time would be done with for them, or, a third alternative, they might be taken prisoner,

in all probability, a yet more dreadful doom. Even then, Benita determined that if she could help it, this should not befall her. She had the rifle and the revolver that Jacob Meier had given her. Surely she would be able to find a moment to use one or the other of them upon herself. she clenched her teeth and struck the horse again and again so that now they flew along the matabili soldiers were running their best to catch them and if these had been given but five seconds of start caught they must have been but that short five seconds saved their lives when they rushed through them the foremost men of the nippers were not more than twenty yards apart seeing that they had passed these halted and hurled a shower of spears after them

one flashed by Benita's cheek, a line of light, she felt the wind of it. Another cut her dress, and a third struck her father's horse in the near hind leg, just above the knee joint, remaining fast there for a stride or two, and then falling to the ground. At first the beast did not seem to be incommoded by this wound. Indeed, it only caused it to gallop quicker, and Benita rejoiced, thinking that it was but a scratch. Then she forgot about it, for some of the Matabili, who had guns, began to shoot at them, and although their marksmanship was vile, one or two of the bullets went nearer than was pleasant. Lastly, a man, the swiftest run out of them all, shouted after them in Zulu.

The horse is wounded, we will catch you both before the sunsets! Then they passed over the crest of a rise and lost sight of them for a while. Thank God! gasped beneath you. when they were alone again in the silent felt but mr clifford shook his head do you think they will follow us she asked you heard what the fellow said he answered evasively doubtless they are on their way to attack bambatsy and have been round to destroy some other wretched tribe and steal the cattle which we saw yes i fear that they will follow the question is which of us can get to bambatsi first surely we ought to on the horse's father yes if nothing happens to them and as he spoke the words the mare which he was riding dropped sharply upon her hind leg the same that had been struck with the spear then recovered herself and galloped on did you see that he asked she nodded then said shall we get off and look at the cut certainly not he answered our only chance is to keep her moving once the wound stiffens there's an end the sinew cannot have been severed or it would have come before now so they pushed on all that morning did they canter forward wherever the ground was smooth enough

to allow them to do so and notwithstanding the increasing lameness of mr clifford's mare made such good progress that by midday they reached the place where they had passed the first night after leaving bambatsy here sheer fatigue and want of water forced them to stop a little while they dismounted and drank greedily from the spring, after which they allowed the horses to drink also. Indeed, it was impossible to keep them away from the water. Then they ate a little, not because they desired food,

but to keep up their strength, and while they did so, examine the mare. By now her hind leg was much swollen, and blood still ran from the gash made by the assegai. Moreover, the limb was drawn up, so that the point of the hoof only rested on the ground. "'We must get on before it sets fast,' said Mr. Clifford, and they mounted again. "'Great heavens! What was this? The mare would not stir.'

In his despair Mr. Clifford beat it cruelly, whereupon the poor brute hobbled forward a few paces on three legs, and again came to a standstill. Either an injured sinew had given, or the inflammation was now so intense that it could not bend its knee. Understanding what this meant to them, Benita's nerve gave out at last and she burst into weeping. Don't cry, love, he said. God's will be done. Perhaps they have given up the hunt by now.

At any rate, my legs are left, and Bambatsy is not more than 16 miles away. Forward now, and holding to her saddle strap, they went up the long, long slope, which led to the ports in the hills around Bambatsy. They would have liked to shoot the mare, but to be able to be. being afraid to fire a rifle could not do so. So they left the unhappy beast to its fate, and with it everything it carried except a few of the cartridges. Before they went, however, at Benita's prayer,

her father devoted a few seconds to unbuckling the girths and pulling off the bridle so that it might have a chance of life. For a little way it hobbled after them on three legs. Then the saddle still upon its back, stood winnying piteously, till at last to Benita's intense relief, a turn in their path hid it from their sight. Half a mile further on, she looked round in the faint hope that it might have recovered itself and followed, but no mare was to be seen. Something else was to be seen, however, for there, three or four miles away upon the plane behind them,

easy to be distinguished in that dazzling air, were a number of black spots that occasionally seemed to sparkle. What are they? she asked faintly, who feared the answer. The matter bealy who follow us? answered her father. Or rather, a company of their swiftest runners. It is their spears that glitter so. Now, my love, this is the position, he went on as they struggled forward. Those men will catch us before ever we can get to Bambatsy. They are trained to run like that for fifty miles if need be, but to which

With this starts they cannot catch your horse. You must go on and leave me to look after myself. Never, never, she exclaimed. But you shall and you must. I am your father and I order you. As for me, what does it matter? I may hide from them and escape, or, at least, I am old, my life is done,

whereas yours is before you. Now, goodbye and go on. And he let go of the saddle-strap. By way of answer, Benita pulled up the horse. Not one yard, she said, setting her mouth. Then he began to storm at her, calling her disobedience and undutiful, and when this means failed to move her, to implore her almost with tears. "'Father, dear,' she said, leaning down towards him as he walked,

for now they were going on again. "'I told you why I wanted to run away from Bambatsay, didn't I? because I would rather risk my life than stay. Well, do you think that I wish to return there and live in that place alone with Jacob Meier? Also, I will tell you another thing. You remember about Mr. Seymour? Well, I can't get over that.

I can't get over it at all, and therefore, although of course I am afraid, it is all one to me. No, we will escape together or die together, the first if we can. Then, with a groan he gave up the argument, and as he found breath they discussed their chances.

Their first idea was to hide, but save for a few trees all the country was open, there was no place to cover them. They thought of the banks of the Zambezi, but between them and the river rose a bare rock-strewn hill with several miles of slope.

Long before they could reach its crest, even if a horse were able to travel there, they must be overtaken. In short, there was nothing to do, except to push for the neck, and if they were fortunate enough to reach it before the Matabili to abandon the horse there, and tried to conceal themselves among the ruins of the houses beyond.

This perhaps they might do when once the sun was down, but they did not deceive themselves. The chances were at least fifty to one against them, unless, indeed, their pursuers grew weary and let them go. At present, however, they were by no means weary, for having perceived them from far away, the long-legged runners put on the pace and the distance between them and their quarry was lessening.

"'Father,' said Benita, "'please understand one thing. "'I do not mean to be taken alive by those savages.' "'Oh, how can I?' he faltered. "'I don't ask you,' she answered. "'I will see to that myself, "'only if I should make any mistake.' "'And she looked at him.

"'The old man was getting very, tired. He panted up the steep hillside and stumbled against the stones. Benita noted it, and slipping from the horse, made him mount while she ran alongside. Then, when he was a little rested, they changed places again, and so covered several miles of country. Subsequently, when both of them were nearly exhausted, they tried riding, she in front and he behind, for their baggage had long since been thrown away, but the weary beast could not carry this burden and after a few hundred yards of it stumbled fell struggled to its feet again and stopped so once more they were obliged to ride and walk alternately now there was not much more

than an hour of daylight left and the narrow pass lay about three miles ahead of them that dreadful three miles ever thereafter it was benita's favorite nightmare at the beginning of it, the leading Matabili were about 2,000 yards behind them, half way, about a thousand, and at the commencement of the last mile, say, 500. Nature is a wonderful thing and great are its resources in extremity. As the actual crisis approached, the weariness of these two seemed to depart, or at any rate it was forgotten. They no longer felt exhausted, nor, had they been fresh from their beds, could they have climbed or run better.

Even the horse seemed to find new energy, and when it lagged, Mr Cliff had dug the point of his hunting knife into its flank. Gasping, panting, now one mounted and now the other. They struggled on towards that crest of rock, while behind them came death in the shape of those sleuth-hounds of Matabeli.

The sun was going down and against its flaming ball, when they glanced back, they could see their dark forms outlined. The broad spears also looked red as though they had been dipped in blood. They could even hear their taunting shouts as they called to them to sit down and be killed and save trouble. Now they were not 300 yards away

and the crest of the pass was still half a mile ahead. Five minutes passed and here where the track was very rough the horse blundered upwards slowly. Mr Clifford was riding at the time and Benita running at his side holding to the stirrup leather she looked behind her the savages fearing that their victims

might find shelter over the hill were making a rush and the horse could go no faster one man a great tall fellow quite outdistanced his companions two minutes more and he was not over a hundred paces from them a little nearer than they were

to the top of the pass then the horse stopped and refused to stir any more. Mr Clifford jumped from the saddle, and Benita, who could not speak, pointed to the pursuing Matabili. He sat down upon a rock, cocked his rifle, took a deep breath, aimed and fired at the soldier who was coming on carelessly in the open. Mr. Clifford was a good shot, and shaken though he was,

at this supreme moment his skill did not fail him. The man was struck. somewhere for he staggered about and fell then slowly picked himself up and began to hobble back towards his companions who when they met him stopped a minute to give him some kind of assistance that halt proved their salvation for it gave them time to make one last despairing rush and gain the brow of the port not that this would have saved them however since where they could go the matabili could follow and there was still light by which the pursuers would have been able to see to catch them. Indeed, the savages, having laid down the wounded man, came on with a yell of rage, fifty or more of them together. Over the pass, father and daughter struggled hand in hand,

after them, perhaps sixty yards away ran the Matabili, gathered in a knot now upon the narrow ancient road, bordered by steep hillsides. Then, suddenly, from all about them, as it appeared to Benita, broke out the blaze and roar of rifles, rapid and continuous.

Down went the Matabili by twos and threes, till at last it seemed as though but a few of them were left upon their feet, and those came on no more. They turned and fled from the neck of the narrow pass

to the open slope beyond. Benita sank to the ground, and the next thing that she could remember was hearing the soft voice, voice of Jacob Mayor, who said, So, you have returned from your eye, Miss Clifford, and perhaps it was as well that the thought came from you to me, that you wished me to meet you here in this very place.

End of Chapter 15. Chapter 16 of the Spirit of Bambatsy, by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Back at Bambatsy How they reached Bambatsy, Benetian. never could remember, but afterwards she was told that both she and her father were carried upon litters made of ox-hide shields. When she came to her own mind again, it was to find herself lying in her tent outside the mouth of the cave within the third enclosure of the

temple fortress. Her feet were sore and her bones ached, physical discomforts that brought back to her in a flash, all the terrors through which she had passed. Again she saw the fierce and the fierce pursuing Matabili again heard their cruel shouts and the answering crack of the rifles. Again amidst the din and the gathering darkness distinguished the gentle foreign voice of Maya speaking his words of sarcastic greeting. Next oblivion fell upon her and after it a dim memory of being helped up the hill with the sun pouring on her back and assisted to climb the steep steps of the wall by means of a rope placed around her. then forgetfulness again the flap of her tent was drawn aside and she shrank back upon her bed shutting her eyes for fear lest they should fall on the face of jacob maya feeling that it was not he or learning it perhaps from the footfall she opened them a little peeping at her visitor from between her long lashes he proved to be not jacob or her father but the old molimo who stood beside her holding in his hand a gourd filled with her

with goat's milk. Then she sat up and smiled at him, for Benita had grown very fond of this ancient man, who were so unlike anyone else that she had ever met. "'Greeting, lady,' he said softly, smiling back at her with his lips and dreamy eyes, for his old face did not seem to move beneath its thousand wrinkles. "'I bring you milk, drink, it is fresh, and you need food.' so she took the gourd and drank to the last drop, for it seemed to her that she had never tasted anything so delicious. Good, good, murmured the moly mo, now you will be well again.

Yes, I shall get well, she answered. But oh, what of my father? Fear not, he is still sick, but he will recover also. You shall see him soon. I've drunk all the milk, she broke out. There is none left for him. plenty he answered waving his thin hand there were two cups full one for each we have not many she goats down below but the best of their milk is saved for you tell me all that has happened father and the old priest who liked her to call him by that name smiled again with his eyes and squatted down in the corner of the tent.

You went away, you remember that you would go, although I told you that you must come back. You refused my wisdom, and you went, and I have learned all that befell you and how you two escaped the impi. Well, that night after sunset, when you did not return, came the black one, yes, yes, I mean mayor, whom we name so because of his beard, and, he added deliberately, his heart. He came running down the hill asking for you, and I gave him the letter. He read it, and oh, then he went mad. He cursed in his own tongue. He threw himself about.

He took a rifle and wished to shoot me. But I sat silent and looked at him till he grew quiet. Then he asked why I had played him this trip, but I answered that it was no trick of mine who had no right to keep you and your father prisoners against your will, and that I thought you had gone away because you were afraid of him, which was not wonderful if that was how he talked to you. I told him too, I who am a doctor, that unless he was careful he would go mad, that already I saw madness in his eye, after which he became quite quiet,

for my words frightened him. Then he asked what could be done, and I said, that night, nothing, since you must be far away, so that it would be useless to follow you, but better to go to meet you when you come back. He asked what I meant by your coming back,

and I answered that I meant what I said, that you would come back in great haste and peril, although you would not believe me when I told you so, for I had heard it from the Munwali whose child you are. So I sent out my spies, and that night went by, and the next day and night went by, and we sat still and did nothing, though the black one wished to wander out alone after you.

But on the following morning at the dawn, a messenger came in, who reported it had been called to him by his brethren who were hidden upon hilltops, and in other places for miles and miles, miles that the Matabili impi, having destroyed another family of the Makalanga far down the Zambezi, was advancing to destroy us also. And in the afternoon came a second spy, who reported that you too had been surrounded by the impi, but had broken through them, and were riding hitherwards for your

lives. Then I took fifty of the best of our people, and put them under the command of Tamas, my son, and sent them to ambush the pass, for against the Matabili warriors on the plain, we who are not warlike do not dare to fight. The black one went with them, and when he saw how sore was your strait, wished to run down to meet the Matabili, for he is a brave man,

but I had said to Tamas, no, do not try to fight them in the open, for there they will certainly kill you. Or over, lady, I was sure, that you would reach the top of the port. Well, you reached it, though but by the breadth of a blade of grass, and my children shot with the new rifles, and the place being so narrow that they could not miss, killed many of those hyenas of Amanda Beale. But to kill Matabili is like catching fleas on a dog's back. There are always more. Still, it served its turn. You and your father were

brought away safely and we lost no one. Where then are the Matabili now? asked Benita. Outside our walls, a whole regiment of them. Three thousand men or more, under the command of the Captain Maduna, he of the royal blood, whose life you begged, but nevertheless hunted you like a buck. Perhaps he did not know who it was, suggested Benita. Perhaps not, the Molymo answered.

rubbing his chin, for in such matters even Amatabili generally keeps faith, and you may remember he promised you life for life. However, they are here ravening like lions round the wall, and that is why we carried you up to the top of the hill, that you might be safe from them. But are you safe, my father? I think so, he replied, with a dry little chuckle in his throat. whoever built this fortress built it strong, and we have blocked the gates. Also, they caught no one outside, all were within the walls together with the sheep and goats. Lastly, we have sent most of the women and children across the Zambezi in canoes to hide in places we know of, whither the Amanda Bealey cannot follow,

for they dare not swim a river. Therefore, for those of us that remain, We have food for three months, and before then the rains will drive the impi out. Why did you not all go across the river father? For two reasons, Lady, the first is that if we once abandoned our stronghold, which we have held from the beginning, Lomengula would take it and keep it, so that we could never re-enter into our heritage, which would be ashamed to us, and bring down the vengeance of the spirits of our ancestors upon us. our heads. The second is that as you have returned to us, we stay to protect you.

You are very good to me, murmured Benita. Nay, nay, we brought you here, and we do what I am told to do from above. Trouble may still come upon you. Yes, I think that it will come, but once more, I pray you, have no fear, for out of this evil root shall spring a flower of joy, and he rose to go. Stay, said Benita. Has the chief mayor found the gold? No, he has found nothing,

but he hunts and hunts like a hungry jackal digging for a bone. But that bone is not for him. It is for you, lady, you and you only. Oh, I know that you do not seek, still you shall find. Only the next time

that you want help, do not run away into the wilderness. Hear the word of Manwali given by his mouth, the Molimo of Bambatsi. And as he spoke, the old priest backed himself out of the tent, stopping now and again

to bow to Benita. A few minutes later, her father entered, looking very weak and shaken, and supporting himself upon a stick. Happy was the greeting of these two, who, with their arms about each other's neck, gave thanks for their escape from great, peril. You see, Benita, we can't get away from this place, Mr. Clifford said presently.

We must find that gold. Bother the gold, she answered with energy. I hate its very name. Who can think of gold with three thousand matabili waiting to kill us? Somehow I don't feel afraid of them anymore, said her father. They have had their chance and lost it, and the Macalanga swear that now they have guns to command the gates. the fortress cannot be stormed. Still, I am afraid of someone. Who?

Jacob Meier. I have seen him several times, and I think he is going mad. The Molymo said that too, but why? From the look of him, he sits about muttering and glowering with those dark eyes of his,

and sometimes groans and sometimes bursts into shouts of laughter. This is when the fit is on him. For generally he seems right enough. but get up if you think you can, and you should judge for yourself. I don't want to, answered Benita feebly. Father, I am more afraid of him than ever. Oh, why did you not let me stop down below among the Macalanga,

instead of carrying me up here again, where we must live alone with that terrible Jew? I wish to, dear, but the Molimo said we should be safer above, and ordered his people to carry you up. Also, Jacob swore that unless you were brought back, he would kill me. Now you understand why I believe that he is mad. Why, why? gasped Benita again. God knows, he answered with a groan.

But I think that he is sure that we shall never find the gold without you, since the Molymo has told him that it is for you and you alone. And he says the old man has second sight or something of the sort. "'Well, you would have murdered me. I saw it in his eye. So I thought it better to give in, rather than that you should be left, here, sick and alone. Of course, there was one way.' And he paused. She looked at him and asked, "'What way? To shoot him before he shot me,' he answered in a whisper, "'For your sake, dear. But I could not bring myself to it.'

"'No,' she said with a shudder. "'Not that, not that. better that we should die than that his blood should be upon our hands now i will get up and try to show no fear i'm sure that is best and perhaps we shall be able to escape somehow meanwhile let us humour him and pretend to go and looking for this horrible treasure so benita rose to discover that save for her stiffness she was but little the worse and finding all things placed in readiness set to work with her father's help to cook the evening meal to cook the evening meal as usual. Of Maya, who doubtless had prepared them, she saw nothing. Before nightfall he came, however, as she knew he would. Indeed, although she heard no step and her back was towards him, she felt his presence, the sense of it fell upon her like a cold shadow. Turning round, she beheld the man. He was standing close by, but above her, upon a big granite boulder, in climbing which his soft felt shone's or hide shoes.

had made no noise, for Maya could move like a cat. The last rays from the sinking sun struck him full, outlining his agile nervous shape against the sky, and in their intense red light which flamed upon him he appeared terrible. He looked like a panther about to spring. His eyes shone like a panther's, and Benita knew that she was the prey whom he desired. Still, remembering her resolution, she determined.

to show no fear, and addressed him. Good evening, Mr. Mayor. Oh, I am so stiff that I cannot lift my neck to look at you. And she laughed. He bounded softly from the rock, like a panther again, and stood in front of her. You should thank the God you believe in, he said, that by now you are not stiff indeed,

all that the jackals have left of you. I do, Mr. Mayor, and I thank you too. it was brave of you to come out to save us. Father, she called, come and tell Mr. Mayor, how greatful we are to him. Mr. Clifford hobbled out from his hut under the tree, saying, I have told him already, dear.

Yes, answered Jacob, you have told me, if I repeat yourself. I see that supper is ready. Let us eat, for you must be hungry. Afterwards, I have something to tell you. So they ate, with no great appetite, any of them. Indeed, Mayer touched but little food,

though he drank a good deal, first of strong black coffee, and afterwards of square face and water. But on Benita, he pressed the choicest morsels that he could find, eyeing her the while, and saying that she must take plenty of nutriment, or her beauty

would suffer, and her strength wane. Benita bethought her of the fairy tales of her childhood, in which the ogre fed up the princess whom he purpose to devour. You should think of your own strength, Mr. Mayor, she said. You cannot live on coffee and square face. It is all

I need tonight. I am astonishingly well since you came back. I can never remember feeling so well or so strong. I can do the work of three men and not be tired. Or this afternoon for instance, I have been carrying provisions and other things up that steep wall, for we must prepare for a long siege

together. Yet I should never know that I had lifted a single basket. But while you were away, ah, then I felt tired. Benita changed the subject, asking him if he had made any discoveries. Not yet, but now that you are back, the discoveries will soon come. Do not be afraid. I have my plan which cannot fail. Also, it was lonely working in that cave without you, so I only looked about a little outside, till it was time to go to me to and shoot some of those matabili. Do you know, I killed seven of them myself. Then I was shooting for your sake I could not miss.

And he smiled at her. Benita shrank from him visibly, and Mr. Cliff had said in an angry voice, Don't talk of those horrors before my daughter. It is bad enough to have to do such things without speaking about them afterwards. You are right, he reads. replied reflectively, and I apologize, though personally I never enjoyed anything

so much as shooting those Matabili. Well, they are gone and there are plenty more outside. Listen, they are singing their evening hymn. And with his long finger, he beat time to the volleying notes of the dreadful Matabili war chant

which floated up from the plain below. It sounds quite religious, doesn't it? Only is the words. No, I will not translate them. In our circumstances, they are too personal. Now, I have something to say to you. It was unkind of you to run away and leave me like that. Not honourable either.

Indeed, he added, with a sudden outbreak of the panther ferocity. Had you alone being concerned, Clifford, I tell you frankly that when we met again I should have shot you. Traitors deserve to be shot, don't they? "'Please stop talking to my father like that,' broke in Benita in a stern voice, for her anger had overcome her fear. Also, it is I whom you should blame. "'It is a pleasure to obey you,' he answered bowing. "'I will never mention the subject any more.

"'Nor do I blame you? Who could? Not Jacob Mayer. "'I quite understand that you found it very dull up here, "'and ladies must be allowed their fancies. also you have come back, so why talk of the matter? But listen, on one point I have made up my mind. For your own sake you shall not go away any more until we leave this together. When I had finished carrying up the food,

I made sure of that. If you go to look tomorrow morning, you will find that no one can come up that wall and what is more, no one can go down it. Moreover, I may be quite certain, in future, I shall sleep near the stair myself. Benita and her father stared at each other. The Molimo has a right to come, she said. It is his sanctuary.

Then he must celebrate his worship down below for a little while. The old fool pretends to know everything, but he never guessed what I was going to do. Besides, we don't want him breaking in upon our privacy, do we? He might seize a gold when we find it, and the robbers of it afterwards. End of Chapter 16. Chapter 17 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The first experiment.

Again, Benita and her father stared at each other blankly, almost with despair. They were trapped, cut off from all help, in the power of a man who was going mad. mr clifford said nothing he was old and growing feeble for years although he did not know it maya had dominated him and never more so than in this hour of stress and bewilderment moreover the man had threatened to murder him and he was afraid not so much for himself as for his daughter if he were to die now what would happen to her left alone with jacob maya the knowledge of his own folly understood too late filled him him with shame. How could he have been so wicked as to bring a girl upon such a quest in the company of an unprincipled Jew, of whose past he knew nothing, except that it was murky and dubious? He had committed a great crime, led on by a love of Luca, and the weight of it pressed upon his tongue and closed his lips. He knew not what to say. For a little while

Benita was silent also. Hope died in her, but she was a bold spirit. woman, and by degrees her courage reasserted itself. Indignation filled her breast and shone through her dark eyes. Suddenly she turned upon Jacob, who sat before them, smoking his pipe and enjoying their discomfiture. How dare you? she asked in a low concentrated voice. How dare you? You coward! He shrank a little beneath her scorn and anger,

then seemed to recover and brace him. as one does who feels that a great struggle is at hand upon the issue of which everything depends do not be angry with me he answered i cannot bear it it hurts ah you don't know how it hurts well i will tell you and before your father for that is more honourable i dare for your sake for my sake how can it benefit me to be cooped up in this horrible place with you i would rather trust my myself with the macalanga, or even, she added, with bitter scorn, even with those bloody-minded matabili. You ran away from them very fast a little while ago, Miss Clifford. But you do not understand me, when I said for your sake I meant for my own. See now, you tried to leave me the other day and did not succeed. Another time you might succeed. And then what would happen to me? I do not know Mr. Mayor, and her eyes added, I do not care.

Ah, but I know. Last time it drove me nearly mad. Next time I should go quite mad. Because you believe that through me you will find this treasure of which you dream day and night, Mr. Mayor. Yes, he interrupted quickly. Because I believe that in you I shall find the treasure of which I dream day and night. and because that treasure has become necessary to my life. Benita turned quickly towards her father, who was puzzling over the words, but before either of them could speak, Jacob passed his hand across his brow in a bewildered way and said,

What was I talking of? The treasure, yes, the uncountable treasure of pure gold that lies hid so deep that it is so hard to discover and to possess, the useless, buried treasure that we are, bring such joy and glory to us both if only it could be come at and reckoned out piece by peace coin by coin through the long long years of life again he paused then went on well miss clifford you are quite right that is why i have dared to make you a prisoner because as the old molimo said the treasure is yours and i wish to share it now about this treasure

it seems that it can't be found, can it? Although I have worked so hard. And he looked at his delicate, scarred hands. Quite so, Mr. Mayor, it can't be found. So you had better let us go down to the Macalanga. But there is a way, Miss Clifford, there is a way. You know where it lies and you can show me. If I knew I would show you soon enough, Mr. Mayor,

for then you could take the stuff and our partnership would be at an end. not until it is divided ounce by ounce and coin by coin. But first, first you must show me, as you say you will, and as you can. How, Mr. Mayor, I am not a magician. Ah, but you are. I will tell you how, having your promise. Listen now, both of you. I have studied.

I know a great many things, and I read in your face that you have the gift. Let me look in your eyes. a while, Miss Clifford, and you will go to sleep quite gently, and then in your sleep, which shall not harm you at all, you will see where that gold lies hidden, and you will tell us. What do you mean? asked Benita, bewildered. I know what he means, broke in Mr. Clifford. You mean that you want to mesmerize her as you did the Zulu chief. Benita opened her lips to speak, but Mayer said quickly, no, no, hear me first. You mean, you want to mesmerize her. As you did the Zulu chief. quickly. No, no, hear me first before you refuse. You have the gift, the precious gift of

clairvoyance that is so rare. How do you know that, Mr. Mayor? I have never been mesmerized in my life. It does not matter how. I do know it. I have been sure of it from the moment when we first met that night by the gloof. Or though perhaps you felt nothing said, it was that gift of yours working upon a mind in tune, my mind, which led me there in time to save you, as it was a gift of yours which warned you of the disaster about to happen to the ship. Oh, I have heard the story from your own lips. Your spirit can loose itself from the body. It can see the past and the future. It can discover the hidden things. I do not believe it, answered Benita, but at least it shall not be loosed by you. It shall, it shall.

It shall, he cried. With passion, his eyes blazing on her as he spoke. Oh, I foresaw all this, and that is why I was determined you should come with us. So that should other means fail, we might have your power to fall back upon. Well, they have failed. I have been patient, I have said nothing. But now there is no other way. Will you be so selfish, so cruel as to deny me?

You who can make us all rich in us. an hour, and take no hurt at all, no more than if you had slept a vile. Yes, answered Benita, I refuse to deliver my will into the keeping of any living man, at least of all into yours, Mr. Mayor. He turned to her father with a gesture of despair. Cannot you persuade her, Clifford, she is your daughter, she will obey you? Not in that, said Benita. No, answered Mr. Clifford.

"'I cannot, and I wouldn't if I could. My daughter is quite right. "'Moreover, I hate this supernatural kind of thing. "'If we can't find this gold without it, then we must let it alone. That is all.' "'Mayer turned aside to hide his face, and presently looked up again and spoke quite softly. "'I suppose that I must accept my answer. "'But when you talked of any living man just now, Miss Clifford, "'did you include your father?' She shook her head.

Then will you allow him to try to mesmerize you? Benita laughed. Oh yes, if he likes, she said. But I do not think that the operation will be very successful. Good. We will see tomorrow. Now, like you, I am tired. I am going to bed in my new camp, by the ball. He added significantly.

Why are you so dead set against this business? Asked her father when he had gone. oh father she answered can't you see don't you understand then it is hard to have to tell you but i must in the beginning mr mayer only wanted the gold now he wants more me as well as the gold i hate him you know that is why i ran away but i have read a good deal about this mesmerism and i have seen it once or twice and who knows if once i allowed his mind to master my mind although i hate him so much i might become his own slave i understand now said mr clifford oh why did i ever bring you here it would have been better if i had never seen your face again on the morrow the experiment was made mr clifford attempted to mesmerize his daughter all the morning jacob who it now appeared had practical knowledge of this doubtful art tried to instruct him therein in the course of the lesson he informed him that for a short period in the past having great natural powers in that direction. He had made use of them professionally,

only giving up the business because he found it wrecked his health. Mr. Clifford remarked that he had never told him that before. There are lots of things in my life that I have never told you, replied Jacob with a little secret smile. For instance, once I mesmerized you, although you did not know it, and that is why you always have to do what I want you to,

except when you're done. daughter is near you, but her influence is stronger than mine. Mr. Clifford stared at him. No wonder Benita won't let you mesmerize her, he said shortly. Then Jacob saw his mistake. You are more foolish than I thought, he said. How could I mesmerize you without your knowing it? I was only laughing at you.

I didn't see the laugh, replied Mr. Clifford uneasily. And they went on with the lesson. That afternoon it was put. to proof, in the cave itself, where Maya seemed to think the influence would be propitious. Benita, who found some amusement in the performance, was seated upon the stone steps underneath the crucifix, one lamp on the altar, and others on each side of her. In front stood her father, staring at her, and waving his hands mysteriously in obedience to Jacob's directions. So ridiculous did he look indeed, while thus engaged, that Benita had the greatest

difficulty in preventing herself from bursting into laughter. This was the only effect which his grimaces and gesticulations produced upon her, although outwardly she kept a solemn appearance, and even from time to time shut her eyes to encourage him. Once, when she opened them again, it was to perceive that he was becoming very hot and exhausted, and that Jacob was watching him with such an unpleasant intentness that she reclosed her eyes that she might not see his face.

It was shortly after this that of a sudden Benita did feel something, a kind of penetrating power flowing upon her, something soft and subtle that seemed to creep into her brain like the sound of her mother's lullaby in the dim years ago.

She began to think that she was a lost traveller among alpine snows wrapped around by snow falling, falling in ten myriad flakes, every one of them with a little heart of fire. Then it came to her. that she had heard this snow-sleep was dangerous the last of all sleeps and that its victims must rouse themselves or die benita roused herself just in time only just for now she was being borne over the edge of her precipice upon the wings of swans and beneath her was darkness wherein dim figures walked with lamps where their heart should be oh how heavy were her eyelids surely a weight hung to each of them a golden weight there There, there, they were open and she saw.

Her father had ceased his efforts. He was rubbing his brow with a red pocket handkerchief, but behind him, with rigid arms outstretched, his glowing eyes fastened on her face, stood Jacob Mea. By an effort she sprang to her feet, shaking her head as a dog does. Have done with this nonsense, she said. It tires me. And snatching one of the lamps she ran swiftly down the place.

Benita expected that Jacob Mea would be very angry with her and braced herself for a scene, but nothing of the sort happened. A while afterwards she saw the two of them approaching, engaged apparently in amicable talk. Mr. Meier says that I am no mesmerous love, said her father, and I can quite believe him. But for all that, it is a weary job. I am as tired as I was after our escape for the Matabili.

She laughed and answered, to judge by results I agree with you. The occult is not in your line, father. You had better give it up. Did you then feel nothing? asked Mayor. Nothing at all, she answered, looking him in the eyes. No, that's wrong. I felt extremely bored and sorry to see my father making himself ridiculous.

Grey hairs and nonsense of that sort don't go well together. No, he answered, I agree with you. Not of that sort. And the subject dropped. For the next few days to her intense relief, Benita heard no more of mesmerism. To begin with, there was something else to occupy their minds. The Matabili, tired of marching round the fortress and singing endless war songs, had determined upon an assault.

From their point of vantage on the topmost wall, the three could watch the preparations which they made. Trees were cut down and brought in from a great distance, that rude ladders might be fashioned out of them, also spies wandered round reconnoitering for a weak place in the defences. When they came to near, the Makalanga fired on them, killing some, so that they retreated to the camp which they had made in a fold of ground at a little distance. Suddenly it occurred to Mea that although here the Matabili were safe from the Makalanga bullets,

it was commanded from the greater eminence, and by way of recreation he set himself to harass them. his rifle was a sporting martini and he had an ample supply of ammunition moreover he was a beautiful marksman with sights like that of a hawk a few trial shots gave him the range it was a shade under 700 yards and then he began operations lying on the top of the wall and resting his rifle upon a stone he waited until the man who was superintending the manufacture of the ladders came out into the open when, aiming carefully, he fired. The soldier, a white-bearded savage,

sprang into the air and fell backwards, while his companion stared upwards, wondering whence the bullet had come. Pretty, wasn't it? said Mayor to Benita, who was watching through a pair of field glasses. I dare say, she answered, but I don't want to see any more, and giving the glasses to her father,

she climbed down the wall. But Mayor stayed. there and from time to time she heard the report of his rifle. In the evening he told her that he had killed six men and wounded ten more, adding that it was the best day's shooting which he could remember. What is the use when there are so many? she asked. Not much, he answered, but it annoys them and amuses me. Also, it was part of our bargain that we should help the Macalanga if they were attacked. I believe that you like killing people, she said. I don't mind it, Miss Clifford, especially as they tried to kill you.

End of Chapter 17. Chapter 18 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The other Benita. At irregular times when he had nothing else to do, Jacob went on with his man shooting, in which Mr. Clifford joined him, though with less effect. soon it became evident that the Matabili were very much annoyed by the fatal accuracy of this fire.

Loss of life they did not mind in the abstract, but when none of them knew but that their own turn might come next to perish beneath these downward plunging bullets, the matter wore a different face to them. To leave their camp was not easy, since they had made a thorn-boma around it to protect them in case the Makalanga should make a night sally. Also, they could find no other convenient spot. The upshot of it all was to hurry their assault, which they delivered before they had prepared sufficient ladders

to make it effective. At the first break of dawn on the third day after Mr. Clifford's attempt at mesmerism, Benita was awakened by the sounds of shots and firing. Having dressed herself hastily, she hurried in the growing light towards that part of the wall from below which the noise seemed to come, and climbing it found her father and Jacob already seated there, their rifles in hand.

The fools are attacking the small gate through which she went out riding, Miss Clifford, the very worst place that they could have chosen, or does of all look's weak there, said the latter. If those Macalanga have any pluck, they ought to teach them a lesson. Then the sun rose, and they saw companies of Matabili, who carried ladders in their hands, rushing onward through the morning mist till their sight of them was obstructed by the swell of the hill. On these companies the two white men opened fire with what results they could not see in that light.

Presently a great shout announced that the enemy had gained the foss and were setting up the ladders. Up to this time the Makalanga appeared to have done nothing but now they began to fire rapidly from the ancient bastions which commanded the entrance the impi was driving to storm, and soon, through the thinning fog they perceived wounded Matabili, staggering and crawling

back towards their camp. Of these, the light now being better, Jacob did not neglect to take his toll. Meanwhile, the ancient fortress rang with the hideous tumult of the attack. It was evident that again and again, as their fierce washouts proclaimed, the Matabili was striving to scale the wall, and again and again were beaten back by the raking rifle fire. Once a triumphant yell seemed to announce their success. The fire slackened and Benita grew pale with fear. The Macalanga cowards are bolting, muttered Mr Clifford, listening with terrible anxiety.

But if so, their courage came back to them, for presently the guns cracked louder and more incessant than before, and the savage cries of kill, kill, kill! dwindled and died away. And other five minutes and the Matabili were in full retreat, bearing with them many dead and wounded men upon their backs or stretched out on the ladders. Our Macalanga friends should be grateful to us for those hundred rifles,

said Jacob, as he loaded and fired rapidly, sending his bullets wherever the clusters were thickest. Had it not been for them, their throats would have been cut by now, he added, have stopped those savages with a spear. Yes, and hours too before nightfall, said Benita, with a shudder, for the sight of this desperate fray and fear of how it might end had sickened her. Thank heaven it is over!

Perhaps they would give up the siege and go away! But notwithstanding their costly defeat, for they had lost over a hundred men, the Matabili, who were afraid to return to Bulaueo except as victors, did nothing of the sort. they only cut down a quantity of reeds and scrub and moved their camp nearly to the banks of the river placing it in such a position that it could no longer be searched by the fire of the two white men here they sat themselves down sullenly hoping to starve out the garrison or to find some other way of entering the fortress now maya's shooting having come to an end for lack of men to shoot at since the enemy exposed themselves no more he was again able to give his full attention to the matter of the treasure hunt as nothing could be found in the cave he devoted himself to the outside enclosure which it may be remembered was grown over with grass

and trees and crowded with ruins. In the most important of these ruins, they began to dig somewhat aimlessly, and were rewarded by finding a certain amount of gold in the shape of beads and ornaments, and a few more skeletons of ancients.

But of the Portuguese horde, there was no sign. Thus it came about that they grew gloomy day by day, till at last they scarcely spoke to each other. Jacob's angry disappointment was written on his face, and Benita was filled with despair, since to escape from their jailer above, and the matter bealy below seemed impossible. Moreover, she had another cause for anxiety. The ill health which had been threatening her father for a long while now fell upon him in earnest, so that of a sudden

he became a very old man. His strength and energy left him, and his mind was so filled with remorse for what he held to be his crime in bringing his daughter to this awful place, and with terror for the fate that threatened her, that he could think of nothing else. In vain did she try to comfort him. He would only wring his hands and groan, praying that God and she would forgive him.

Now too, Mayer's mastery over him became continually more evident. Mr. Clifford implored the man, almost with tears to unblock the wall and allow them to go down to the Macalanga. He even tried to bribe him with the offer of all his share of the treasure if it were found, and when that failed, of his property in the Transvaal. But Jacob only told him roughly not to be a fool,

as they had to see the thing through together. Then he would go away and brood by himself, and Benita noticed that he always took his rifle or a pistol with him. evidently he feared lest her father should catch him unprepared and take the law into his own hands by means of a sudden bullet one comfort she had however although he watched her closely the Jew never tried to molest her in any way not even with more of his enigmatic and amorous speeches

by degrees indeed she came to believe that all this was gone from his mind or that he had abandoned his advances as hopeless A week passed since the Matabili attack, and nothing had happened. The Makalanga took no notice of them, and so far as she was aware, the old Molimo never attempted to climb the blocked wall or otherwise to communicate with them. A thing so strange that, knowing his affection for her, Benita came to the conclusion that he must be dead, killed perhaps in the attack. Even Jacob Meier had abandoned his digging, and sat about all day, doing not

nothing but think. Their meal that night was a miserable affair, since in the first place, provisions were running short, and there was little to eat, and in the second, no one spoke a word. Benita could swallow no food, she was weary of that sun-dried trekk-ox, for since Maya had blocked the wall they had little else. But by good fortune there remained plenty of coffee, and of this she drank two cups, which Jacob prepared and handed to her with much politeness. It tasted very bitter to her, but this Benita reflected, was because they lacked milk and sugar. Supper ended. Mayer rose and bowed to her, muttering that he was going to bed, and a few minutes later Mr. Clifford followed his example.

She went with her father to the hut beneath the tree, and having helped him to remove his coat, which now he seemed to find difficulty in doing for himself, bade him good night and returned to the fire. It was very lonely there in the silence, for no sound came from either the Matabili or the Makalanga camps, and the bright moonlight seemed to people the place with fantastic shadows that looked alive. Benita cried a little now that her father could not see her,

and then also sought refuge in bed. Evidently, the end, whatever it might be was near, and of it she could not bear to think. Moreover, her eyes were strangely heavy, so much so that before she had finished saying her prayers, sleep fell upon her, and she knew no more. Had she remained as wakeful as it was often her fate to be during those fearful days, towards midnight, she might have heard some light-footed creature creeping to her tent,

and seen that the moon rays which flowed through the gaping and unclosed flap were cut off by the figure of a man with glowing eyes whose projected arms waved over her mysteriously. But Benita neither heard nor saw. In her drugged rest she did not know that her sleep turned gradually to a magic swoon. She had no knowledge of her rising or of how she threw her thick cloak about her, lit her lamp, and in obedience to that beckoning finger, glided from the tent.

She never heard her father stumble from his hut, disturbed by the sound of footsteps, all the words that pass between him and Jacob Meier, while, lamp in hand, she stood near them like a strengthless ghost. If you dare to wake her, hissed Jacob, I tell you that she will die, and afterwards you shall die. And he fingered the pistol at his belt, no harm shall come to her i swear it follow and see man man be silent all our fortunes hang on it

then overcome also by the strange fierceness of that voice and gaze clifford followed on they go to the winding neck of the cavern first jacob walking backwards like the herald of majesty then majesty itself in the shape of this long head dead, death-like woman, cloaked and bearing in her hand the light, and last behind, the old white-bearded man, like time, following beauty to the grave. Now they were in the great cavern, and now, avoiding the open tombs, the well-mouth and the altar, they stood beneath the crucifix. Be seated, said Amaya, and the entranced Benita sat herself down upon the steps at the foot of the cross, placing the lamp on the rock pavement before her, and bowing her head till her hair fell upon her naked feet and hid them. He held his hands above her for a while, then asked, Do you sleep? I sleep, came the strange, slow answer. Is your spirit awake? It is

awake. Command it to travel backwards through the ages, to the beginning, and tell me what you see here. I see a rugged cave and a wild folk dwelling in it. An old man is dying yonder, and she pointed to the right, and a black woman with a babe at her breast

tense him. A man, it is her husband, enters the cave. He holds a torch in one hand, and with the other drags a buck. Cease, said Amaya, how long is this I go? 33,201 years, came the answer, spoken without any hesitation.

Pass on, he said, pass on, 30,000 years, and tell me, what you see. For a long while there was silence. Why do you not speak? he asked. Be patient, I am living through those 30,000 years. Many are life, many an age, but not. may be missed. Again there was silence for a long while, till at length she spoke. They are done, all of them, and now, three thousand years ago I see this place, changed and smoothly fashioned, peopled by a throng of worshippers, clad in strange garments with clasps upon

them. Behind me stands the graven statue of a goddess, with a calm and cruel face, in front of the altar burns a fire and on the altar white-robed priests are sacrificing an infant which cries aloud "'Pass on, pass on!' Mayor said hurriedly as though the horror of that scene had leapt to his eyes. "'Pass on, two thousand seven hundred years,

and tell me what you see!' Again there was a pause, while the spirit he had evoked in the body of Benita lived through those ages. then slowly she answered, Nothing, the place is black and desolate, only the dead sleep beneath its floor. Vait till the living come again, he commanded,

then speak. They are here, she replied presently. Tonsured monks, one of whom fastens this crucifix and their followers who bow down before the host upon the altar. They come, they go, of whom shall I tell you? Tell me of the Portuguese, of those who are driven here to die. I see them all, she answered after a pause.

Two hundred and three of them. They are ragged and wayworn and hungry. Among them is a beautiful woman, a girl. She draws near to me. She enters into me. You must ask her. This was spoken in a very faint voice. I am.

"'Aye, no more.' "'Mr Cliff had attempted to interrupt, "'but fiercely Mayor bade him to be silent. "'Speak,' he commanded. "'The crouching figure shook her head. "'Speak,' he said again. "'Whereon another voice. "'Not that of Benita,' answered,

"'in another tongue. "'I hear, but I do not understand your language.' "'Great heaven,' said Mayor. "'It is Portuguese.' and for a while the terror of the thing struck him dumb, for he was aware that Benita knew no Portuguese. He knew it, however, who had lived at Lorenzo Marquez. Who are you? he asked in that tongue.

I am Benita de Ferreira. I am the daughter of the Captain de Ferreira and of his wife, the lady Christina who stand by you now. Turn and you will see them. Jacob started and looked about him uneasily. "'What did she say? I did not catch it all,' asked Mr. Clifford. He translated her words. "'But this is black magic!' exclaimed the old man.

"'Benita knows no Portuguese. So how comes she to speak it?' "'Because she is no longer our Benita. She is another Benita, Benita da Ferrera. The Molimo was right when he said that the spirit of the dead woman went with her, as it seems the name has gone. added. "'Have done,' said Mr. Clifford. "'The thing is unholy. Wake her up, or I will.' "'I'll bring about her death. "'Touch or disturb her, and I tell you she will die.'

"'And he pointed to Benita, who crouched before them, "'so white and emotionless, that indeed it seemed as though already she were dead. "'Be quiet,' he went on. "'I swear to you that no hurt shall come to her, "'also that I will translate everything to you. promise that i would tell you nothing and her blood be on your head then mr clifford groaned and said i promise tell me your story benita da farra how came you and your peoples here the tribes of monomotapa rose against our rule they killed many of us in the lower land yes they killed my brother unto him who i was affianced the rest of us fled north to this ancient fortress hoping thence to escape by the river the zambisi the mambo our vassal gave us shelter here but the tribes besieged the walls in thousands and burnt all the boats so that we could not fly by the water

many times we beat them back from the wall the ditch was full of their dead and at last they dared to attack no more then we began to starve and they won the first wall we went on starving and they won the second wall the third wall they could not climb so we died one by one we laid ourselves down in this cave and died till i alone was left for while our people had food they gave it to me who was the daughter of the their captain yes alone I knelt at the foot of this crucifix by the body of my father praying to the blessed son of Mary for the death that would not come and kneeling there I swooned when I awoke again the Mambo and his men stood about me for now knowing us to be dead the tribes had gone and those who were in hiding across the river had returned and knew how to climb the wall they bore me from among the dead they gave me food so that my strength came back. But in the night I, who in my wickedness, would not live,

escaped from them, and climbed the pillar of black rock, so that when the sun rose they saw me standing there. They begged of me to come down, promising to protect me, but I said no, who in the evil of my heart only desired to die that I might join my father and my brother, and one who is dearer to me than all. They asked. of me where the great treasure was hidden. At these words Jacob gasped, then rapidly translated them, while the figure before them

became silent, as though it felt that for the moment the power of his will was withdrawn. Speak on, I bid you, he said, and she continued, the rich, slow voice dropping word after word from the lips of Benita in the alien speech that this Benita never knew.

I answered that it was where it was, and that if they gave it up to any, save the one appointed, then that fate which had befallen my people would befall theirs also. Yes, I gave it into their keeping, until I came again, since, with his dying breath, my father had commanded me to reveal it to none, and I believed that I, who was about to die, should never come again. Then I made my last prayer, I kiss the golden crucifix that now hangs upon the breast

wherein I dwell. And the hand of the living Benita was lifted and moving like the hand of a dead thing slowly drew out the symbol from beneath the cloak, held it for a moment in the lamplight and let it fall to its place again. I put my hands before my eyes that I might not see and I hurled myself from the pinnacle.

Now the voice ceased, but from the lips came a dreadful sound, such as might be uttered by one whose bones are shattered upon rocks, followed by other sounds like those of one who chokes in water. They were so horrible to hear that Mr. Cliff had nearly fainted, and even Jacob Meier staggered and turned white as the white face of Benita. Wake her! For God! sake wake her, said her father. She is dying, as that woman died hundreds of years ago.

Not till she has told us where the gold is. Be quiet, you fool. She does not feel or suffer. It is the spirit within her that lives through the past again. Once more there was silence. It seemed as though the story were all told and the teller had departed. Benita de Ferreira, said Mayor at length. "'Amand you, tell me, are you dead?' "'Oh, that I were dead as my body is dead!' "'Well, the lips of Benita, "'Alas, I cannot die who suffer this purgatory,

"'and must dwell on here alone until the destined day. "'Yes, yes, the spirit of her who was Benita de Ferreira "'must haunt this place in solitude. "'This is her doom, to be the guardian of that accursed gold, "'which was wrung from the, from the earth by cruelty and paid for with the lives of men. Is it still safe?

whispered Jacob. I will look. Then, after a pause, I have looked. It is there. Every grain of it in ox-hide bags. Only one of them has fallen and burst. That which is black and red.

Where is it? He said again. I may not tell you, never, never. Is there anyone whom you may tell? yes whom her in whose breast i lie tell her then i have told her she knows and may she tell me let her guard the secrets as she will oh my guardians i thank you my burden is departed my sin of self-murder is atoned Benita de Ferreira, are you gone? No answer. Benita Clifford, do you hear me?

I hear you, said the voice of Benita, speaking in English, although Jacob forgetting had addressed her in Portuguese. Where is the gold? In my keeping. Tell me, I command you. But no words came, though he questioned her many times. No words came till at last her head sank forward upon her knees, and in a faint voice she murmured,

Loose me or I die! End of chapter 18. Chapter 19 of the spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The Awaking Still Jacob Meier hesitated. The Great Secret was on the book. learned, and if this occasion passed might never be learned. But if he hesitated, Mr. Clifford did not,

the knowledge of his child's danger, the sense that her life was mysteriously slipping away from her under pressure of the ghastly spell, in which she lay enthralled, stirred him to madness. His strength and manhood came back to him. He sprang straight at Mayer's throat, gripped it with one hand, and with the other, drew the knife he wore. "'You devil!' he gasped. "'Wake her! Or you shall go with her!' And he lifted the knife. Then Jacob gave in.

Shaking off his assailant, he stepped to Benita, and while her father stood behind him with the lifted blade, began to make strange upward passes over her, and to mutter words of command. For a long while they took no effect. Indeed, both of them were almost sure that she was gone. Despair gripped her father, and Maya worked at his black art so furiously

that the sweat burst out upon his forehead and fell in great drops to the floor. Oh, at last she stirred, her head lifted itself a little, her breast heaved. Lord in heaven, I have saved her, muttered Jacob in German, and worked on. Now the eyes of Benita opened,

and now she stood up and sighed, but she said nothing, only like a person walking in her sleep, she began to move towards the entrance of the cave, her father going before her with the lamp. On she went, and out of it straight to her tent, where instantly she cast herself upon her bed and sank into deep slumber.

It was as though the power of the drug-induced oblivion, which for a while was overmastered by that other stronger power invoked by Jacob had reasserted itself. Mayer watched her for a while, then said to Mr Clifford, Don't be afraid and don't attempt to disturb her. She will wake naturally in the morning. I hope so for both our sakes, he answered glaring at him, for if not, you or I or the two of us, will never see another.

Mayor took no notice of his threats. Indeed, the man seemed so exhausted that he could scarcely stand. I am done, he said. now as she is safe I don't care what happens to me I must rest and he staggered from the tent like a drunken man outside at the place where they ate

Mr Cliff had heard him gulping down raw gin from the bottle then he heard no more all the rest of that night and for some hours of the early morning did her father watch by the bed of Benita although lightly clad as he was the cold of dawn struck to his bones

At length when the sun was well up, she rose in her bed and her eyes opened. "'What are you doing here, father?' she said. "'I have come to see where you were, dear. You are generally out by now.' "'I suppose that I must have overslept myself then,' she replied wearily. "'But it does not seem to have refreshed me very much, and my headaches. "'Oh, I remember,' she added with a start, "'I have had such a horrid dream.' "'What about?' he asked as carelessly as he could.

"'I can't recall it quite, but it had to do with Mr. Mayor.' And she shivered. "'It seemed as though I had passed into his power, "'as though he had taken possession of me, body and soul, "'and forced me to tell him all the secret things.' "'What secret things, Benita?' "'She shook her head. "'I don't know now, but we went away among dead people,

"'and I told him there. "'Oh, father, I am afraid. of that man, terribly afraid, protect me from him, and she began to cry a little. "'Of course I will protect you, dear. Something has upset your nerves. Come, dress yourself, and you'll soon forget it all. I'll light the fire.' A quarter of an hour later, Benita joined him, looking pale and shaken, but otherwise much as usual. She was ravenously hungry and ate of the biscuits and dried meat with eagerness. The coffee tastes quite different from that which I drank last night, she said.

I think there must have been something in it which gave me those bad dreams. Where is Mr. Mayor? Oh, I know. And again she put her hand to her head. He is still asleep by the wall. Who told you that? I can't say, but it is so. He will not come here till one o'clock.

There, I feel much better now. What shall we do, father? "'Sit in the sun and rest, I think, dear.' "'Yes, let us do that on top of the wall. We can see the macalanga from there, and it will be a comfort to be sure that there are other human beings left in the world besides ourselves and Jacob Mea.'

So presently they went, and from the spot whence Meya used to shoot at the Matabili camp, look down upon the macalanga, moving about the first enclosure far below. By the aid of the glasses, Benita even thought that she recognised Tamas, although of this it was difficult to be sure, for they were all very much alike. Still, the discovery quite excited her. I'm sure it is Tamas, she said, and oh, how I wished that we were down there with him, although it is true then we should be

nearer to the Matabili, but they are better than Mr. Mayor, much better. Now for a while they were silent, till at length she said suddenly, Father, you are keeping something back from me, and things begin to come back. Tell me, did I go anywhere last night with Mr. Mayor? You and he and I together. He hesitated and looked guilty. Mr. Clifford was not a good actor. I see that we did. I'm sure that we did.

Father, tell me, I must know. I will know. Then he gave way. I didn't want to speak, dear, but perhaps it is best. It is a very strange story. Will you promise not to be upset? I will promise not to be more upset than I am at present, she answered with a sad little laugh. Go on. You remember that Jacob Mea wanted to mesmerise you.

I am not likely to forget it, she answered. Well, last night he did mesmerise you. What? she said. What? Oh, how dreadful. Now I understand it all. But when? When you were sound asleep, I suppose.

At least the first I knew of it was. that some noise woke me, and I came out of the hut to see you following him like a dead woman with a lamp in her hand. Then he told her all the story while she listened to gasped. "'How dared he?' she gasped, when her father had finished the long tale. "'I hate him. I almost wish that you had killed him.' And she clenched her little hands and shook them in the air. "'That is not a very Christian of you, Miss Clifford,' said a voice behind her. but it is one o'clock past and as i am still alive i have come to tell you that it is time for luncheon benita wheeled round upon the stone on which she sat and there standing amidst the bushes a little way from the foot of the wall with jacob maya

their eyes met hers were full of defiance and his of conscious power i do not want any luncheon mr mayor she said but i am sure that you do please come down and have have some please come down the words were spoken humbly almost pleadingly yet to benita they seemed as a command at any rate with slow reluctance she climbed down the shattered wall followed by her father and without speaking they went back to their camping-place all three of them Jacob leading the way. When they had eaten or made pretence to eat, he spoke. I see that your father has told you everything, Miss Clifford, and of that I am glad. As for me, it would have been Orkford, who must ask your forgiveness for so much.

But what could I do? I knew, as I have always known, that it was only possible to find this treasure by your help, so I gave you something to make you sleep, and then, in your sleep, I hypnotized you. and, you know the rest. I have great experience in this art, but I have never seen or heard

of anything like what happened, and I hope I never shall again. Hitherto Benita had sat silent, but now her burning indignation and curiosity overcame her shame and hatred. Mr. Mayor, she said, you have done a shameful and a wicked thing, and I tell you at once that I can never forgive you.

Don't say that. "'Please don't say that,' he interrupted in tones of real grief. "'Make allowances for me. "'I had to learn, and there was no other way. "'You are a born clairvoyant, one among ten thousand. "'My art told me so, and you know all that is at stake.' "'By which you mean so many ounces of gold, Mr. Mayor. "'By which I means the greatness that gold can give, Miss Clifford.'

"'Such greatness, Mr. Mayer.' as a week of fever or a matabili spear or god's will can rob you of but the thing is done and soon or late the sin must be paid for now i want to ask you a question you believe in nothing you have told me so several times you say that there is no such thing as a spirit that when we die we die and there's an end do you not yes i do then tell me what was it that spoke out of my lips last night and how came it that I, who know no Portuguese, talk to you in that tongue? He shrugged his shoulders. You have put a difficult question, but one I think that can be answered. There is no such thing as a spirit, an identity that survives death. But there is such a thing as the subconscious self,

which is part of the animating principle of the universe, and if only its knowledge can be unsealed, knows all that has passed and all that is passing in that universe. One day perhaps you will read the works of my compatriot Hegel, and there you will find it spoken of. You explain nothing. I am about to explain, Miss Clifford. Last night I gave to your subconscious self, that which knows all, the strength of liberty, so that it saw the past as it had happened in this place. Already you knew the story of the dead girl, Benita da Ferrara, and that story you reenacted, talking the tongue she used as you would have talked Greek or any other tongue had it been hers.

It was not her spirit that animated you, but your own buried knowledge, tricked out and furnished by the effort of your human imagination. That her name Benita should have been yours also is no doubt a strange coincidence, but no more. Also, they have no proof that it was so, only what you said in your trance. perhaps, said Benita, who is in no mood for philosophical argument, perhaps also one day you will see a spirit, Mr. Mayor, and think otherwise. Then I see a spirit, and know that it is a spirit, then doubtless I shall believe in spirits. But what is the good of talking of such things?

I do not seek spirits. I seek the Portuguese gold. Now I am sure you can tell where that gold lies. you would have told us last night had not your nervous strength failed you, who are unaccustomed to the state of trance. Speaking as Benita da Ferrara, you said that you saw it and described its condition. Then you could, or would, say no more, and it became necessary to awaken you. Miss Clifford, you must let me mesmerize you once again for a few minutes only, for then we will waste no time on past histories.

and we shall find the gold, unless, indeed, he added by an afterthought and looking at her sharply, you know already where it is, in which case I need not trouble you. I do not know, Mr. Mayor, I remember nothing about the gold, which proves my theory.

What purported to be the spirit of Benita da Ferrera said that it had passed the secret onto you, but in your waking state you do not know that secret. In fact, she did not pass it on because she has no existence, but in your subconscious state you will know. Therefore, I must mesmerize you again, not at once, but in a few days' time when you have quite recovered. Let us say, next Wednesday, three days hence. You shall never mesmerize me again, Mr. Mayor. No, not while I live, broke in her father, who had been listening to this discussion in silence.

Jacob bowed his head meekly. You think so now, but I think otherwise. What I did last night I did against your will, and that I can do again, only much more easily. But I had rather do it with your will, who work not for my own sake only, but for the sake of all of us. And now let us talk no more of the matter, lest we should grow angry.

Then he rose and went away. The next three days, were passed by Benita in a state of constant dread. She knew in herself that Jacob Mea had acquired a certain command over her, that a horrible intimacy had sprung up between them. She was acquainted with his thoughts. Thus, before he asked for it, she would find herself passing him some article at table or elsewhere, or answering a question that he was only about to ask. Moreover, he could bring her to him from a little distance. Thus, on two or three occasions when she was wandering about their prison enclosure, as she was one to do for the sake of exercise,

she found her feet drawn to some spot, now one place and now another, and when she reached it, there before her was Jacob Meier, "'Forgive me for bringing you here,' he would say, smiling after his crooked fashion, and lifting his hat politely. "'But I wish to ask you if you have not changed your mind as to being mesmerized.' Then for a while he would hold her with his eyes, so that her feet seemed rooted to the ground. Till at length it was as though he cut a rope

by some action of his will and set her free. And choked with rough and blind with tears, Benita would turn and run from him, as from a wild beast. But if her days were evil, oh, what were her knights? She who lived in constant terror, lest he should again drug her food or drink, and while she slept, throw his magic spell upon her.

To protect herself from the first danger, she would swallow nothing that had been near him. Now also she slept in the hut with her father, who lay near its door, a loaded rifle at his side, but he had told Jacob outright that if he caught him at his practices, he would shoot him, a threat at which the younger man laughed aloud, for he had no fear of Mr. Clifford. Throughout the long hours of darkness, they kept watch alternately, one of them lying down to rest while the other peered and listened. Nor did Benita always listen in vain, for twice at least she heard stealthy footsteps creeping about the hut

and felt that soft and dreadful influence flowing in upon her. Then she would wake her father whispering, "'He is there! I can feel that he is there!' But by the time that the old man had painfully dragged himself to his feet, for now he was becoming very feeble and acute rheumatism, or some such illness had got hold of him, and crept from the hut, there was no one to be seen.

Only through the darkness he would hear the sound of a retreating step and of low, mocking laughter. Thus those miserable days went by, and the third morning came, that dreaded Wednesday. Before it was dawn, Benita and her father, neither of whom had closed their eyes that night,

talked over their strait, long and earnestly, for they knew that its crisis was approaching. I think that I had better try to kill him, Benita, he said. I am growing dreadfully weak, and if I put it off I may find no strength, and you will be at his mercy. I can easily shoot him when his back is turned, although I hate the thought of such a deed. Surely I shall be forgiven, or if not, I cannot help it.

I must think of my duty to you, not of myself. No, no, she asked. answered, I will not have it. It would be murder, although he has threatened you. After all, Father, I believe that the man is half mad

and not responsible. We must take our chance and trust to God to save us. If he does not, she added, at the worst I can always save myself. And she touched the pistol which now she wore day and night.

So be it, said Mr. Clifford with a groan, let us pray for deliverance from this hell and keep our hands clean of blood. End of chapter 19. Chapter 20 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Libby Vox recording is in the public domain.

Jacob Mayer sees a spirit. For a while they were silent. Then Benita said, Father, is it not possible that we might escape after all? Perhaps that stare on the rampart is not so completely blocked that we could not climb over it. mr clifford thinking of his stiff limbs and aching back shook his head and answered i don't know mayor has never let me near enough to see "'Well, why do you not go and look?

"'You know he sleeps till late now because he is up all night. "'Take the glasses and examine the top of the wall from inside that old house nearby. "'He will not see or hear you. "'But if I came near, he would know and wake up. "'If you like, love, I can try, "'but what are you going to do while I am away? "'I shall climb the pillar.' "'You don't mean,' and he stopped.

"'No, no, nothing of that sort. "'I shall not follow the example of the example of Benita de Ferreira unless I am driven to it. I want to look, that is all. One can see far from that place, if there is anything to see. Perhaps the Matabili are gone now. We have heard nothing of them lately. So they dressed themselves, and as soon as the light was sufficiently strong, came out of the hut and parted. Mr. Clifford, rifle in hand, limping off towards the wall, and Benita going towards the great cone. She climbed it easily enough. She climbed it easily enough, and stood in the little cup-like depression on its dizzy peak waiting for the sun to rise and disperse the mists which hung over the river and its banks now whatever may have been the exact ceremonial use to which the ancients put this pinnacle without doubt it had something to do with sun worship

this indeed was proved by the fact that at any rate at this season of the year the first rays of the risen orb struck full upon its point thus it came about as as she stood there waiting, Benita of a sudden found herself suffused in light so vivid and intense that, blothed as she was in a dress which had once been white, it must have caused her to shine like a silver image. For several minutes, indeed, this golden spear of fire blinded her so that she could see nothing, but stood quite still, afraid to move, and waiting until, as the sun grew higher, its level rays passed over her.

this they did presently and plunging into the valley began to drive away the fog now she looked down along the line of the river the matabili camp was invisible for it lay in a hollow almost at the foot of the fortress beyond it however was a rising swell of ground it may have been half a mile from where she stood and on the crest of it she perceived what looked like a wagon tent with figures moving round it they were shouting also for through the silence of the african mourn the sound of their voices floated up to her as the mist cleared off benita saw that without doubt it was a wagon for there stood the long row of oxen also it had just been captured by the Matabili, for these were about it in numbers. At the moment however, they appeared to be otherwise occupied, for they were pointing with their spears to the pillar on Bambatsi. Then it occurred to Benita that, placed as she was in that fierce light, with only the sky for background, she must be perfectly visible from the plain below, and that it might be her figure, perched like an eagle between heaven and earth, which excited their interest. Yes, and not theirs,

only, for now a white man appeared, who lifted what might have been a gun or a telescope towards her. She was sure from the red flannel shirt and the broad hat which he wore that he must be a white man, and oh, how her heart yearned towards him, whoever he might be. The sight of an angel from heaven could scarcely have been more welcome to Benita in her wretchedness. Yet, surely, she must be dreaming. What should a white man have been? and a wagon be doing in that place, and why had not the Matabili killed him at once? She could not tell,

yet they appeared to have no murderous intentions, since they continued to gesticulate and talk, whilst he stared upwards with the telescope, if it was a telescope. So things went on for a long time, for meanwhile the oxen were outspanned, until, indeed, more Matabili arrived, who led off the white man,

apparently against his will towards their camp where he disappeared. Then, as there was nothing more to be seen, Benita descended the column. At his foot she met her father, who had come back to seek her. What's the matter? he asked, noting her excited face. Oh, she said, or rather sobbed, There is a wagon with a white man below. I saw the Matabili capture him. Then I am sorry for the poor devil, answered the father,

for he is dead by now. But what could a white man have been doing here? Some hunter, I suppose, who has walked into a trap. The face of Benita fell. I hoped, she said, that he might help us. As well might he hope that we could help him. He is gone, and there is an end. Well, peace be to his soul, and we have our own troubles to think of.

I have been to look at that wall, and it is useless to think of climbing it, "'If he had been a professional mason, "'Mayer could not have built it up better. "'No wonder that we have seen nothing more of the mollimo, "'for only a bird could reach us.' "'Where was, Mr. Mayor?' asked Benita. "'A sleep in a blanket, "'under a little shelter of boughs by the stair.

"'At least I thought so, "'though it was rather difficult to make him out in the shadow. "'At any rate, I saw his rifle set against a tree. "'Come, let us go to breakfast. "'No doubt he will turn up soon enough.' So they went, and for the first time since the Sunday, Benita ate a hearty meal of biscuit soaked in coffee. Although her father was so sure that by now he must have perished on the Matabili spears, the sight of the white man and his wagon had put new life into her, bringing her into touch with the world again.

After all, might it not chance that he had escaped? All this while there had been no sign of Jacob Mea. this however did not surprise them but now he ate his meals alone taking his food from a little general store and cooking it over his own fire when they had finished their breakfast mr clifford remarked that they had no more drinking water left and benita said that she would go to fetch a pailful from the well in the cave her father suggested that he should accompany her but she answered that it was not necessary as she was quite able to wind the chain by herself so she went carrying the bucket in one hand and a lamp in the other. As she walked down the last of the zigzags leading to the cave, Benita stopped a moment,

thinking that she saw a light, and then went on, since on turning the corner there was nothing but darkness before her. Evidently she had been mistaken. She reached the well and hung the pail onto the great copper hook, wondering as she did so

how many folk had done likewise in the far, far past, for the massive metal of that hook was worn quite thin with use. Then she let the roller run and the sound of the travelling chain clanked dismally in that vaulted empty place. At length the pail struck the water and she began to wind it up again,

pausing at times to rest, for the distance was long and the chain heavy. The bucket appeared. Benita drew it to the side of the well and lifted it from the hook, then took up her lamp to be gone. Feeling or seeing something, which she was not sure, she held the lamp above her head,

and by its light perceived a figure standing between her and the entrance to the cave. "'Who are you?' she asked, whereon her soft voice answered out of the darkness, the voice of Jacob Meier. "'Do you mind standing still for a few minutes, Miss Clifford? "'I have some paper here, and I wish to make a sketch.

You do not know how beautiful you look with that light above your head, illuminating the shadows and the thorn-crowned face on the crucifix beyond. You know, whatever path's fortune may have led me into, by nature I am an artist,

and never in my life have I seen such a picture. For on day it will make me famous. How statue-like I see thee stands! the agate's lamp within thy hand. That's what I should put under it. You know the lines, don't you? Yes, Mr. Mayor, but I'm afraid you will have to paint your picture from memory, as I cannot hold up this lamp any longer.

My arm is aching already. I do not know how you came here, as as you have followed me. Perhaps you will be so kind as to carry this water. I did not follow you, Miss Clifford. Although you never saw me, I answered the cave before you, to make some measurements. How can you make measurements in the dark? I was not in the dark.

I put out my light when I caught sight of you, knowing that otherwise you were done away, and fate stood me in good stead. You came on as I will that you should do. Now let us talk. Miss Clifford, have you changed your mind? You know the time is up. I shall never change my mind.

Let me pass you, Mr. Mayor. No, no. No, not until you have listened. You are very cruel to me, very cruel indeed. You do not understand that rather than do you the slightest harm, I would die a hundred times. I do not ask you to die, I only ask you to leave me alone, a much easier matter. But how can I leave you alone when you are a part of me? Then I love you.

There, the truth is out, and now say what you will. Benita lifted the bucket of water. His weight seemed to steady her. Then she put it down again, since escape was impracticable. She must face the situation. I have nothing to say, Mr. Mayor, except that I do not love you or any living man,

and I never shall. I thank you for the compliment you have paid me, and there is an end. Any living man, he repeated after her. That means you love a dead man. Seymour, He who was drowned. No wonder that I hated him

when first my eyes fell on him years ago, long before you had come into our lives. Prescience, the subconscious self again. Well, what is the use of loving the dead? Those who have no longer any existence, who have gone back into the clay out of which they were formed, and are not, nor evermore shall be. You have but one life.

Turn, turn to the living, and make it fruitful and happy. I do not agree with you, Mr. Mayor. To me, the dead are still living. One day I shall find them. Now, let me go. I will not let you go. I will plead and wrestle with you,

as in the old fable, my namesake of my own race, wrestled with the angel, until at length you bless me. You despise me because I am a Jew, because I have had many adventures and not succeeded, because you think me mad, but I tell you that there is a seed of greatness in me.

Give yourself to me, and I will make you great, for now I know that it was you whom I needed to supply what is lacking in my nature. We will win their wealth, and together we will rule. Until a few days hence we starve, or the Matabili make an end of us. No, Mr. Mayor, no, and she tried to push past him.

He stretched out his arm, and stopped her. Listen, he said, I have pleaded with you as man with woman. Now, as you refuse me and as you alone stand between me and a madness, I will take another course.

I am your master. Your will is servant to my will. I bid you obey me. Bending forward, he fixed his eyes upon hers, and Benita felt her strength begin to fail. Ah, he said, You are my servant,

now, and to show it I shall kiss you on the lips, and then I shall throw the sleep upon you, and you will tell me what I want to know. Afterwards, we can be wed when it pleases me, or do not think that your father will defend you, for if he interferes I shall kill that foolish old man, whom until now I have only spared for your sake. Remember that if you make me angry, I shall certainly kill him, and your own father's blood will be on your head. Now I am going to kiss you. Benita lifted her hand to find the pistol at her waist. It fell back again.

She had no strength. It was as though she were paralysed as a bird is paralyzed by a snake, so that it cannot open its wings and fly away, but sits there awaiting death. She was given over into the hands of this man, whom she hated. Could God allow such a thing she wondered dimly, and all the while his lips drew nearer to her face? They touched her own, and then, why or wherefore Benita never understood, the spell broke. All his power was gone. She was, as she had been, her free woman, mistress of herself.

Contemptuously, she thrust the man aside, and not even troubling to run, lifted her pail of water, and walked away, leaving him there, standing and staring after her. Soon she saw the light again, and joyfully extinguished her lamp. Indeed, the breast of Benita, which should have been so troubled after the scene through which she had passed, strangely enough was filled with happiness and peace. As that glorious sunlight had broken on her eyes, so had another light of freedom arisen in her soul. She was no longer afraid of Jacob Mea, that coward kiss of his had struck off the shackles which bound her to him her mind had been subject to his mind but now that his physical nature was brought into the play his mental part had lost its hold upon her

and minita knew that he would never be able to mesmerize her again no not even in her sleep when her will was in abeyance therefore she was joyous as a bird knew escaped from its cage as she approached the hut she saw her father seated on a stone outside it since the poor old man was now so weak and so full of pain that he could not stand for very long and seeing remembered maya's threats against him at the thought all her new-found happiness departed she might be safe she felt sure that she was safe but how about her father if maya could not get his way probably he would be as good as his word and kill him she shivered at the thought then recovering herself walked forward steadily with her buckets of water you have been a long while gone my love said mr clifford yes father mr mayor was in the cave and kept me how did he get there and what did he want i don't know how he got there crept in when we were not looking i suppose but as for what he wanted listen dear and word for word she told him what had passed before she had finished her father was almost choking with wrath. The dirty Jew, the villain, he gasped. I never dreamed that he would dare to attempt such an outrage. Well, thank heaven, I can still hold a rifle, and when he comes out, Father, she said gently, that man is mad. He is not responsible for his actions, and therefore, except in self-defense,

you must not think of such a thing. As for what he said about you, I believe it was only empty threats. and for me you need have no fear his power over me is gone it went like a flash when his lips touched me and she rubbed her own as though to wipe away some stain i am afraid of nothing more i believe yes i believe that the old molymo was right and that all will end well as she was speaking benita heard a shuffling sound behind her and turned to learn its course then she saw a strange sight jacob maya was still staggering towards them, dragging one foot after the other through the grass and stones. His face was ghastly pale, his jaw had dropped like that of a dead man, and his eyes were set wide open and full of horror. On he came towards them, as though to seek their company and protection, till he stood still in front of them trembling, the perspiration running from him.

"'What is the matter with you, man?' asked Mr. Clifford. "'I have seen a ghost,' he whispered. "'You did not come back in the cave, did you?' he added, pointing at Benita who shook her head. "'What ghost?' asked Mr. Clifford. "'I don't know, but my lamp went out, and then a light began to shine behind me. I turned and on the steps of that crucifix I saw a woman kneeling. Her arms clasped the feet of the figure. Her forehead rested upon the feet.

Her long black hair flowed down. She was dressed in white as light came from her body and her head. Very slowly she turned and looked at me. And oh, heaven, that face! And he put his hand before his eyes and groaned. It was beautiful. Yes, yes, but fearful to see, like an avenging angel. I fled and the light, only the lights, came with me down the cave.

Even at the mouth of it there was a little. I have seen a spirit, I who do not believe in spirits, I have seen a spirit, and I tell you that not for all the gold in the world will I enter that place again. Then, before they could answer, suddenly, as though his fear, Fear had got some fresh hold on him. Jacob sprang forward and fled away, crashing through the bushes and leaping from rock to rock like a frightened buck. End of Chapter 20.

Chapter 21 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The message from the dead. Mayor always said that he did not believe in spirits, remarked Mr. Clifford reflectively. "'Well, he believes in them now,' answered Benita, with a little laugh. "'But, father, the poor man is mad. That is the fact of it, and we must pay no attention to what he says.' "'The old Mollimo and some of his people, Tamus, for instance, declare that they have seen the ghost of

Benita de Ferreira. Are they mad also, Benita?' "'I don't know, father, who can say? All these things are a mystery. All I do know is that I have never seen a ghost, and I doubt if I ever shall. No, but when you were in that trance, something that was not you spoke out of your mouth, which something said that it was your namesake, the other Benita. Well, as you say, we can't fathom these things,

especially in a haunted kind of place like this. But the upshot of it is that I don't think we have much more to fear from Jacob. I'm not so sure, Father, mad people change their mood to very sudden, As it happened, Benito was quite right. Towards suppertime, Jakob Mayer reappeared, looking pale and shaken, but otherwise much as usual. I had a kind of fit this morning, he explained, the result of an hallucination which seized me when my light went out in that cave. I remember that I thought I had seen a ghost, whereas I know very well that no such thing exists. I was the victim of disappointment, anxieties, and other still strong emotions. And he looked at Benita,

Therefore, please forget anything that I said or did, and would you give me some supper? Benita did so, and he ate in silence with some heartiness. When he had finished his food and swallowed two or three tops of square face, he spoke again, I have come here, where I know I am not a lot of. welcome, upon business, he said in a calm matter-of-fact voice. I am tired of this place, and I think it is time that we attained the object of our journey here, namely to find the

hidden gold. That, as we all know, can only be done in a certain way, through the clairvoyant powers of one of us and the hypnotic powers of another. Miss Clifford, I request that you allow me to throw you into a state of trance. You have told us everything else, but you have not yet told us where the treasure is hidden, and this it is necessary that we should know. And if I refuse, Mr. Mayor? Then I am sorry, but I must take means to compel your obedience. Under those circumstances, much against my will, I shall be obliged. Here his eyes blazed out wildly to extolles. To execute your father, whose obstinacy and influence stand between us and splendid fortunes. No, Clifford, he added, don't stretch out your hand towards that rifle,

but I am already covering you with a pistol in my pocket, and the moment your hand touches it, I shall fire. You poor old man, do you imagine for a single second that sick as you are, and with your stiff limbs you can hope to match yourself, against my agility, intellect, and strength. Why, I can kill you in a dozen ways, before you could lift a finger against me, and by the God I do not believe in, unless your daughter is more compliant, kill you I will.

That remains to be seen, my friend, said Mr. Clifford with a laugh, for he was a brave old man. I am not certain that the God, whom you do not believe in, will not kill you first. Now Benita, who had been taking counsel with herself, looked up and said suddenly, Very well, Mr. Mayor, I consent, because I must. Tomorrow morning you shall try to mesmerize me, if you can, in the same place, before the crucifix in the cave. No, he answered quickly.

It was not there. It was here, and here it shall be again. The spot you mention is unpropicious to me. the attempt would fail. It is the spot that I have chosen, answered Benita stubbornly. And this is the spot that I have chosen, Miss Clifford, and my will must prevail over yours. Because you who do not believe in spirits are afraid to re-enter the cave, Mr. Mayor, lest you should chance.

Never mind what I am or am not afraid of, he replied with fury. Make your choice between doing my will and your father, father's life. Tomorrow morning I shall come for your answer, and if you are still obstinate, within half an hour, he will be dead, leaving you and me alone together. Oh, you may call me wicked and a villain, but it is you who are wicked, you, you, you, who force me to this deed of justice. Then, without another word, he sprang up and walked away from them backwards, as he went, covering Mr. Clifford with the pistol which he had drawn from his pocket. The last that they saw of him were his eyes,

which glowered at them through the darkness, like those of a lion. "'Father!' said Benita, when she was sure that he had gone. "'That madman really means to murder you. There is no doubt of it.' "'None, whatever, dear. If I am alive tomorrow night, I shall be lucky. Unless I can kill him first or get out of his way.' well she said hurriedly i think you can i have an idea he is afraid to go into that cave i am sure let us hide ourselves there we can take food and shall have plenty of water whereas unless rain falls he can get nothing to drink but what then benita we can't stop in the dark for ever no but we can wait there until something happens something must and will happen his disease won't stand still he may go raving mad and kill himself or he may attempt to attack us though that is not likely and then we must do what we can in self-defence or help may reach us from somewhere at the worst we shall only die as we should have died outside come let us be quick lest he should change his mind and creep back upon us

so mr clifford gave way knowing that even if he could steal himself to the deed of attempting to kill yakob he would have little chance against that strong and agile man. Such a struggle would only end in his own death, and Benita must then be left alone with Maya and his insane passions. Hurriedly they carried their few belongings into the cave. First they took most of the little store of food that remained, the three hand-lamps and all the paraffin. There was but one tin, then returning they fetched the bucket, the ammunition and their clothes. Afterwards, as there was still no sign of the, mayor they even dared to drag in the wagon tent to make a shelter for Benita and all the wood that they had collected for firing. This proved a wearisome business, for the logs were heavy,

and in his crippled state Mr. Clifford could carry no great burden. Indeed, towards the end, Benita was forced to complete the task alone, while he limped beside her with his rifle, lest Jacob should surprise them. When at length everything was done, it was It was long past midnight, and so exhausted were they, that notwithstanding their danger, they flung themselves down upon the canvas tent, which lay in a heap at the end of the cave near the crucifix, and fell asleep. When Benita woke, the lamp had gone out, and it was pitch dark. Fortunately, however, she remembered where she had put the matches, and the lantern with a candle in it. She lit the candle and looked at her watch. It was nearly six o'clock.

the dawn must be breaking outside. Within an hour or two, Jacob Mea would find that they had gone. Suppose that his rage should overcome his fear and that he should creep upon them. They would know nothing of it until his face appeared in the faint ring of light. Or he might even shoot her father out of the darkness.

What could she do that would give them warning? The thought came to her, taking one of the tent ropes and the lantern, for her father still slept heavily. She went down to the entrance of the cave, and at the end of the last zigzag, where once a door had been, managed to make it fast to a stone hinge,

about 18 inches above the floor, and on the other side to an eye opposite, that was cut in the solid rock to receive a bolt of wood or iron. Mayer, she knew, had no lamps or oil, only matches and perhaps a few candles. Therefore, if he tried to end, enter the cave, it was probable that he would trip over the rope and thus give them warning.

Then she went back, washed her face and hands with some water that they had drawn on the previous night to satisfy their thirst, and tidied herself as best she could. This done, as her father still slept, she filled the lamps, lit one of them, and looked about her, for she was loath to wake him. Truly it was an awful place in which to dwell. There above them towered the great white crucifix. There in the corner were piled the remains of the Portuguese. A skull with long hair, still hanging to it, grinned at her. A withered hand was thrust forward as though to clutch her.

Oh, no wonder that in such a spot, Yakomaya had seen ghosts. In front too was the yawning grave where they had found the monk. Indeed, his bones wrapped in dark robes still lay within. for Jacob had tumbled them back again, then beyond and all around, deep, dark, and utter silence. At last her father woke, and glad enough was she of his human company.

They breakfasted upon some biscuits and water, and afterwards, while Mr. Clifford watched her near the entrance with his rifle, Benita set to work to arrange their belongings. The tent, she managed to prop up against the wall of the cave, by help of some of the wood which they had carried in. Beneath it she spread their blankets,

that it might serve as a sleeping place for them both, and outside placed the food and other things. While she was thus engaged, she heard a sound at the mouth of the cave. Jacob Mea was entering, and had fallen over her rope. Down it she ran, lantern in hand, to her father, who, with his rifle raised, was shouting,

"'If you come in here, I put a bullet through you.' Then came the answer in Jacob's voice, which rang hollow in that vaulted place. "'I do not want to come in. I shall wait for you to come out. You cannot live long in there. The horror of the dark will kill you. I have only to sit in the sunlight and wait.' Then he laughed, and they heard the sound of his footsteps, retreating down the passage. "'What are we to do?' asked Mr Clifford, despairingly. "'We cannot live without light, and if we have light,

"'he will certainly creep to the entrance and shoot us. "'He's quite mad now. "'I am sure of it from his voice.' "'Benita thought a minute. "'Then she answered, "'We must build up the passage, look!' "'and she pointed to the lumps of rock "'that the explosion of their mine had shaken down from the roof

"'and the slabs of cement that they had broken from the floor, with the crowbar. At once, at once, she went on. He will not come back for some hours, probably not till night. So they set to work, and never did Benita labour, as it was her lot to do that day. Such of the fragments as they could lift, they carried between them,

others they rolled along by help of the crowbar. For hour after hour they toiled at their task. Luckily for them, the passage was not more than three feet wide by six feet, six high and their material was ample. Before the evening they had blocked it completely with a wall several feet in thickness, which wall they supported on the inside with lengths of the firewood lashed across to the old hinges and bolt-holes or set obliquely against its face. It was done and they regarded their work with pride, although it seemed

probable that they were building up their own tomb, because of its position at an of the passage they knew that mayor could not get to it with a pole to batter it down also there was no loose powder left so his only chance would be to pull it to pieces with his hands and this they thought might prove beyond his power at least should he attempt it they would have ample warning yet that day was not to pass without another trouble just as they had rolled up and levered into place a long fragment of rock designed to prevent the ends of their supporting pieces of wood from slipping on the cement floor. Mr Clifford uttered an exclamation, then said, "'I've wrung my back badly. Help me to the tent. I must lie down.' Slowly and with great pain they staggered up the cave. Mr. Clifford leaning on Benita and a stick,

while reaching the tent at last, he almost fell onto the blanket and remained there practically crippled. Now began Benita's terrible time, the worst of all her life. Every hour her father became more ill. Even before they took refuge in the cave he was completely broken down, and now, after this accident, he began to suffer very much. His rheumatism, or sciatica, or whatever it was, seemed to settle upon the hurt muscles of his back, causing him so much pain that he could scarcely sleep for ten.

ten minutes at a stretch. Moreover, he would swallow but little of the rough food which was all Benita was able to prepare for him. Nothing indeed except biscuit soaked in black coffee, which he boiled over a small fire made of the wood that they had brought with them, and occasionally a little broth, tasteless stuff enough,

for it was only the essence of biltong, or sun-dried flesh, flavoured with some salt. then there were two other terrors against which she must fight, the darkness and the dread of Jacob Mea. Perhaps the darkness was the worst of them, to live in that hideous gloom in which their single lamp, but she dared burn no more, lest the oil should give out,

seemed but as one star to the whole night. Ah, who that had not endured it could know what it meant. There the sick man, yonder the grinning skeletons, around the blackness and the silence, and beyond these again, a miserable death, or Jacob Mea. But of him, Benita saw nothing, though once or twice she thought that she heard his voice

raving outside the wall which they had built. If so, either he did not try to pull it down, or he failed in the attempt, or perhaps he feared that should he succeed, he would be greeted by a bullet. So at last she gave up thinking about him. Should he force his way into the cave, she must deal with the situation as best she could.

Meanwhile, her father's strength was sinking fast. Three awful days went by in this fashion, and the end drew near. Although she tried to force herself to it, Benita could not swallow enough food to keep up her strength. Now that the passage was closed, the atmosphere of this old vault, for it was nothing more,

thickened by the smoke of the, the fire which she was obliged to burn, grew poisonous and choked her. Want of sleep exhausted her. Dread of what the morrow might bring forth, crushed her strong spirit. She began to break down, knowing that the hour was near when she and her father must die together. Once as she slept a while at his side, being wakened by his groaning, Benita looked at her watch. It was midnight. She rose. and going to the embers of the little fire warmed up some of her bil Tong broth

which she poured into a tin panicking. With difficulty she forced him to swallow a few mouthfuls of it, then, feeling a sudden weakness, drank the rest herself. It gave her power to think, and her father dozed off into an uneasy sleep. Alas, thinking was of no use, nothing could be done, there was no hope save in prayer,

restlessness seized benita and taking the lantern she wandered round the cave the wall that they had built remained intact and oh to think that beyond it flowed the free air and shone the blessed stars back she came again skirting the pits that jacob maya had dug and the grave of the old monk till she reached the steps of the crucifix and holding up her candle looked at the thorn crowson round brow of the Christ above. It was wonderfully carved, that dying face was full of pity, would not he whom it represented pity her? She knelt down on the topmost step, and clasping the pierced feet with her arms, began to pray earnestly, not for herself, but that she might save her father. She prayed as she had never prayed before, and so praying sank into a torpor. or a swoon. It seemed to Benita that this sleep of hers suddenly became alive. In it she saw many things. For instance, she saw herself seated in a state of trance upon that very step,

where she now knelt, while before her stood her father and Jacob Mea. Moreover, her voice spoke in her. She could not hear the voice, but she seemed to see the words written in the air before her. These were the words, clasp the feet of the Christ and draw them to the left. The passage beneath leads to the chamber where the gold is hid, and thence to the river bank. That is the secrets which, ere I depart, I, the dead Benita, pass on to you, the living Benita, as I am commanded. In life and death, peace be to your soul. Thrice did this message appear to repeat itself in the consciousness of Benita. Then, suddenly as she had slept, she woke again, with every letter of it imprinted on her mind.

Doubtless it was a dream, nothing but a dream bred by the fact that her arms were clasping the feet of the crucifix. What did it say? Draw them to the left? She did so, but nothing stirred. Again she tried, and still nothing stirred. of course it was a dream why had such been sent to mock her in a kind of mad irritation she put out all her remaining strength and wrestled with those stony feet they moved a little then of a sudden without any further effort on her part swung round as high as the knees where drapery hung concealing the join in them yes they swung round revealing the join in them yes they swung round revealing the head of a stair up which blew a cold wind that it was sweet to breathe benita rose gasping then she seized her lantern and ran to the little tent where her father lay End of Chapter 21

Chapter 22 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The voice of the living. Mr. Clifford was awake again now. Where have you been? he asked querulously, in a thin voice. I wanted you. Then, as the light when the candles shone upon it, he noted the change that had come over her pale face and added,

"'What has happened? "'Is Mayor dead? Are we free?' Benita shook her head. "'He was alive a few hours ago, "'for I could hear him raving and shouting "'outside the wall we built. "'But, father, it has all come back to me. "'I believe that I have found it.'

"'What has come back? What have you found? "'Are you mad, too, like Jacob?' "'What something told me when I was in the trance, "'which afterwards I forgot, but now remember.' and I have found the passage which leads to where they hid the gold. It begins behind the crucifix where no one ever thought of looking. This matter of the gold did not seem to interest Mr. Clifford. In his state, all the wealth beneath the soil of Africa would not have appealed to him.

Moreover, he hated the name of that accursed treasure which was bringing them to such a miserable end. Where does the passage run? Have you looked? he asked. Not yet, but the voice in me said. I mean, I dreamed, that it goes down to the river side. If you leaned on me, do you think that you could walk? Not one inch, he answered.

Here, where I am, I shall die. No, no, don't talk like that. We may be saved now that I have found a way. Oh, if only you could, if only you could walk, or if I had the strength to carry you. And she wrung her hand. and began to weep so weak was she. Her father looked at her searchingly. Then he said, Well, love, I cannot, so there's an end. But you can and you had better go.

What, and leave you? Never. Yes, and leave me. Look, there is but a little oil left and only a few candles. The biscuits are done and neither of us can swallow that bil-tong any more. I suppose, that I am dying, and your health and strength are failing you quickly in this darkness. If you stop here, you must soon follow me. And what is the alternative? That's madman outside, that is, if you could find strength to pull down the wall, which I doubt, you had best go, Benita. But still she said she would not.

Do you not see, he added, that it is my only chance of life. If you go, you may be able to bring me help before the end comes. Should there be a passage, the probability is that although they know nothing of it, it finishes somewhere by the wall of the first enclosure where the Makalanga are. If so, you may find the Molimo, or if he is dead, Tamas are one of the others, and they will help us. Go, Benita, go at once. I never thought of that, she answered in a change, voice. Of course, it may be so, if the passage goes down at all. Well, at least I can look and come back to tell you.

Then Benita placed the remainder of the oil close by her father's side so that he could fill the lamp, for the use of his hands still remain to him. Also, she set there such crumbs of biscuit as were left, some of the bil Tong, a flask of hollands, and a pail of water. This done she put on her long cloak filled one of its pockets with Bil Tong and the other with matches and three of the four remaining candles. The fourth she insisted on leaving beside her father's bed. When everything was ready she knelt down at his side, kissed him and from her heart put up a prayer that they might both live to meet again, although she knew well that this they could scarcely hope to do. Had two people ever been in a more dreadful situation, she wondered,

as she looked at her father lying there, whom she must leave to fight with death alone in that awful place, while she went forth to meet him in the unknown bowels of the earth. Mr. Clifford read her thoughts. Yes, he said, it is a strange parting and a wild errand, but who knows, it may please Providence to take you through, and if not, why, our troubles will soon be over. then once more they kissed and not daring to try to speak benita tore herself away passing into the passage whereof the lower part of the crucifix formed the door she paused for a moment to examine it and to place a fragment of rock in such fashion that it could not shut again behind her

her idea was that it worked by aid of some spring but now she saw that this was not so as the whole mass hung upon three stone hinges beautifully concealed the dust and corrosion of ages which had made this door so hard to open by filling up the tiny spaces between it and its framework had also rendered these cracks utterly imperceptible to the eye So accurately was it fashioned indeed that no one who did not know its secret would have discovered it if they searched for months or years, though at the time Benita took little note of such details. The passage beyond and the stair descending from it showed the same perfect workmanship. Evidently this secret way dated not from the Portuguese period but from that of the Phoenicians or other ancients to whose treasure chamber it was the approach. as it did from their holy of holies, to which none were admitted save the head priests. The passage, which was about seven feet high by four wide, had been hewn out of the live rock of the mountain, the thousands of little marks left by the workman's chisels were still discernible

upon its walls. So it was with the stair that had been but little used and remained fresh as the day when it was finished. Down the steps, candle in hand, flitted Benita, counting them as she went. The 30th brought her to a landing. Here it was that she saw

the first traces of that treasure which they had suffered so much to find. Something glittered at her feet, she picked it up, it was a little bar of gold weighing two or three ounces that doubtless had been dropped there. Throwing it down again,

she looked in front of her, and to her dismay saw a door of wood with iron bolts but the bolts had never been shot and when she pulled at it the door creaked upon its rusty hinges and opened two more steps and she found herself in the treasure chamber it was square and of the size of a small room packed on either side almost to the low vaulted roof with small bags of raw hide carelessly arranged quite near to the door one of these bags had slipped down and burst open it was filled with gold some in ingots and some in raw nuggets for there they lay in a shining scattered heap as she stoop to luke it came into the mind of benita that her father had said that in her trance she had told them that one of the bags of treasure was burst and that the skin of which it had been made was black and red behold before her lay the burst bag and the colour of the hide was black and red she shivered the thing was uncanny terrible uncanny was it also to see in the thick dust which in the course of twenty or more of centuries had gathered on the floor, the mark of footprints, those of the last persons who had visited this place. There had been two of them, a man and a woman, and they were no savages,

for they wore shoes. Benita placed her foot in the prince left by that dead woman. It filled it exactly, it might have been her own. Perhaps she thought to herself that other Benita had descended here with her father, after the Portuguese had hidden away their wealth, that she might be shown where it was, and of what it consisted. One more glance at all this priceless misery-working gold, and on she went, she who was seeking the gold of life and liberty for herself and him who lay above. Suppose that stairway ended there. She stopped, she looked round, but could find no door,

to see the better she halted and opened the glass of her lantern. Still she could perceive nothing and her heart sank, yet why did the candle flicker so fiercely and why was the air in this deep place so fresh? She walked forward a pace or two, then noticed suddenly that those footprints of the dead that she was following disappeared immediately in front of her, and she stopped. It was but just in time,

one step more and she would have fallen down the mouth of a deep pit once it had been covered with a stone but the stone was removed and had never been replaced look there it stood against the wall of the chamber well was this for benita since her frail strength would not have sufficed to stir that massive block even if she had discovered its existence beneath the dust now she saw that down the pit ran another ladder like a stare of stone very narrow and precipitous. Without hesitating she began its descent. Down she went and down, 100 steps, 200 steps, 275 steps, and all the way,

wherever the dust had gathered, the man's and the woman's footprints ran before her. There was a double line of them, one line going down and the other line returning. Those that returned were the last, for often they are put, appeared over those that descended. Why had these dead people returned?

Benita wondered. The stare had ended. Now she was in a kind of natural cave, for its sides and roof were rugged. Moreover, water trickled and dripped from them. It was not very large, and it smelt horribly of mud and other things. Again, she searched by the feeble light of her candle,

but could see no exit. Suddenly, she saw some. something else, however, for stepping on what she took to be a rock, to her horror, it moved beneath her. She heard a snap as of jaws, a violent blow upon the leg nearly knocked her off her feet, and as she staggered backwards, she caught glimpses of a huge and loathsome shape, rushing away into the darkness. The rock that she had trodden on was a crocodile, which had its den here. With a little scream she retreated to her stare. death she had expected but to be eaten by crocodiles.

Yet as Benita stood there panting, A blessed hope rose in her breast. If a crocodile came in there, it must also get out, and where such a great creature could go, a woman would be able to follow. Also, she must be near the water, since otherwise it could never have chosen this hole for its habitation.

She collected her courage, and having clapped her hands and waved the lantern about, to scare any alligators that might still be lurking there. Hearing and seeing nothing more, she descended to where she had trodden upon the reptile. Evidently this was its bed, for its long body had left an impress upon the mud, and all about lay the remains of creatures that it had brought in for food. Moreover, a path ran outwards, its well-werectuary, drawn trail distinct even in that light. She followed this path which ended apparently in a blank wall.

Then it was that Benita guessed why these dead folks' footprints had returned, for here had been a doorway which in some past age, those who used it built up with blocks of stone and cement. How then did the crocodile get out? Stooping down she searched and perceived a few yards to the right of the door a hole that looked as though it were water-worn. Now Benita thought that she understood, the rock was softer here,

and centuries of flood had eaten it away, leaving a crack in the stratum which the crocodiles had found out and enlarged. Down she went on her hands and knees, and thrusting the lantern in front of her, crept along that noisome drain, but this was what it resembled, and now, oh, now, she felt ill-yceded,

air blowing in her face and heard the sound of reeds whispering and water running and saw hanging like a lamp in the blue sky a star the morning star benita could have wept she could have worshipped it yet she pushed on between rocks so she found herself among tall reeds and standing in water she had gained the banks of the zambizi Instantly, by instinct as it were, Benita extinguished her candle, fearing lest it should betray her, the constant danger had made her very cunning. The dawn had not yet broken,

but the waning moon and the stars gave a good light. She paused to Luke. There above her, towered the outermost wall of Bambatsi, against which the river washed, except at such times as present when it was very low. so she was not in the fortress as she had hoped but without it and oh what should she do go back again how would that serve her father or herself go on then she might fall into the hands of the matabili whose camp was a little lower down as from her perch upon the top of the cone she had seen that poor white man do ah the white man if only he lived and she could reach him perhaps they had not killed him after all it was a madness yet she would try to discover something impelled her to take the risk if she failed and escaped perhaps then she might call to the macalanga and they would let down a rope and draw her up the wall before the matabili caught her she would not go back empty-handed to die in that dreadful place with her poor father better perish here in the sweet air and beneath the stars

even if it were upon a matabili spear or by a bullet from her own pistol she looked about her to take her bearings in case it should ever be necessary for her to return to the entrance of the cave this proved easy for a hundred feet or so above her where the sheer face of the cliff jutted out a little at that very spot indeed on which tradition said that the body of the signora da ferreira had struck in its fall and the necklace Benita wore today was torn from her. A stunted mimosa grew in some cleft of the rock. To mark the crocodile run itself, she bent down a bunch of reeds, and having first lit a few tan stick or brimstone matches, and thrown them about inside of it,

that the smell of them might scare the beast should it wish to return, she set her lantern behind a stone near to the mouth of the hole. Then Benita began her. journey which, when the river was high, it would not have been possible for her to make except by swimming. As it was, a margin of marsh was left between her and the steep, rocky side of the mount, from which the great wall rose, and through this she made her way. Never was she likely to forget that walk. The tall reeds dripped their dew upon her till she was soaked.

Long black-tailed finches, sacabulas, the natives called them, flew up disturbed and lobbed away across the river. Owls flitted past and bitons boomed at the coming of the dawn. Great fish splashed also in the shallows, or were they crocodiles? Benita hoped not, for one day she had seen enough of crocodiles. It was all very strange, could she be the same woman, she wondered, who not a year before had been walking with her cousins down Westbourne Grove and studying Whiteley's windows. What would these cousins say now if they could see her, white-faced, large-eyed, desperate,

splashing through the mud upon the unknown banks of the Zambezi, flying from death to death? On she struggled, above her the pearly sky in which the stars were fading, around her the wet reeds, and pervading all the heavy low-lying mists of dawn, she was past the round of the walls and at length stood upon dry ground where the matabili had made their camp but in that fog she saw no matabili probably their fires were out and she chanced to pass between the centuries instinctively more than by reason she headed for that hillock upon which she had seen the white man's wagon in the vague hope that it might still be there on she struggled still on till at length

she blundered again something soft and warm, and perceived that it was an ox tied to a trecteau, beyond which were other oxen and a white wagon cap. So it was still there, but the white man, where was he? Through the dense mist, Benita crept to the disillbomb. Then seeing and hearing nothing, she climbed to the forecasty,

and kneeling on it, separated the tent flaps and peered into the wagon. Still she could see nothing because of the mist. Yet she heard something, a man breathing in his sleep. Somehow she thought that it was a white man. A cafe did not breathe like that. She did not know what to do,

so remained kneeling there. It seemed as though the man, who was asleep, began to feel her presence, for he muttered to himself, surely the words were English. Then, quite suddenly, he struck a match and lit a candle which stood in a beer bottle by his side. She could not see his face while he lit the match, for his arm hid it, and the candle burned up slowly. Then the first thing she saw was the barrel of a revolver, pointing straight at her.

"'Now, my black friend,' said a pleasant voice, "'Down you go or I shoot. One, two. Oh, my God!' the candle burned up its light fell upon the white elfish face of benita whose long dark hair streamed about her it shone in her great eyes still she could see nothing for it dazzled her oh my god said the voice again benita benita have you come to tell me that i must join you well i am ready my sweet my sweet now I shall hear your answer. Yes, she whispered, and crawling forward down the cartel, Benita fell upon his breast,

for she knew him at last. Dead or living, she cared not. She knew him, and out of hell crept to him, her heaven and her home. End of Chapter 22. Chapter 23 of the Spirit of Bambatsy, by H. Rider Haggard.

This Libby Vox recording is in the public domain. Benita gives her answer. Your answer, Benita, Robert said dreamily, for to him this thing seemed a dream. Have I not given it months ago? Oh, I remember it was only in my heart, not on my lips, when that blow fell on me. Then afterwards I heard what you had done,

and I nearly died. I wish that I might die to be with you. but I could not. I was too strong. Now I understand the reason. Well, it seems that we are both living, and whatever happens, here is my answer, if it's worth anything to you. Once and for all, I love you. I'm not ashamed to say it, because very soon we may be separated for the last time. But I cannot talk now. I've come here to save my father. Where is he, Benita? dying in a cave up at the top of that fortress. I got down by a secret way.

Are the Matabili still here? Very much so, he answered. But something has happened. My guard woke me an hour ago to say that a messenger had arrived from their king, Lobing Gula, and now they are talking over the message. This is how you came to get through. Otherwise the sentries would have asseguide you, the brutes. And he drew her to him and kissed her passionately for the first time.

then, as though ashamed of himself, let her go. Have you anything to eat? she asked. I am starving. I didn't feel it before, but now. Starving? You starving? Well, I... Look, here is some fresh meat which I could not get down last night, and put by for the Caffirs. Great heavens, that I should feed you with Caffir's leavings. But it is good, eat it.

Benita took the stuff in her fingers and swallowed it greedily. she who for days had lived on nothing but a little biscuit and bill-tong. It tasted delicious to her. Never had she eaten anything so good, and all the while he watched her with glowing eyes. How can you look at me? she said at length. I must be horrible. I have been living in the dark and crawling through mud.

I trod upon a crocodile, and she shuddered. Wherever you are, I never want to see you different, he answered slowly. to me you are most beautiful. Even then, wreck as she was, the poor girl flushed, and there was a mist in her eyes as she looked up and said, Thank you. I don't care now what happens to me,

and what has happened doesn't matter at all, but can we get away? I don't know, he answered, but I doubt it. Go and sit on the wagon box for a few minutes, while I dress, and we will see. Benita went. The mist was thinning,

now, and through it she saw a sight at which her heart sank, for between her and the Mount Bambatsi, Matabili were pouring towards their camp on the river's edge. They were cut off. A couple of minutes later, Robert joined her, and as he came, she looked at him anxiously in the growing light. He seemed older than when they had parted on the Zanzibar, changed too, for now his face was serious.

Moreover, he had grown a beard. Also, he appeared to limp. "'I'm afraid there is an end,' she said, pointing to the Matabili below. "'Yes, it looks like it, but like you, I say, what does it matter now?' And he took her hand in his, adding, "'Let us be happy while we can, if only for a few minutes. "'They will be here presently.' "'What are you?' she asked. "'Prisner.'

"'That's it. I was following you when they captured me, "'for I have been here before and knew the way. "'They were going to kill me on general principles, only it occurred to one of them who was more intelligent than the rest, that I, being a white man, might be able to show them how to storm the place. Now I was sure that you were there, for I saw you standing on that point, though they thought you were the spirit of Bambatsi. So I wasn't anxious to help them, for then you know what happens when the Matabili are the stormers. But, as you still lived, I wasn't anxious to die either, so I set them to work to dig a hole with their assegais

and sharp tools through granite. They have completed exactly twenty feet of it, and I reckon that there are 140 to go. Last night they got tired of that tunnel, and talked of killing me again, unless I could show them a better plan. Now all the fat is in the fire, and I don't know what is to happen. Hello, here they come, hide in the wagon quick. Benita obeyed, and from under cover of the tent, where the Matabili could not see her, watched and listened. The party that approached consisted of a chief and about 20 men who marched behind him as a guard.

Benita knew that chief. He was the captain Maduna, he of the royal blood whose life she had saved. By his side was a Natal Zulu, Robert Seymour's driver who could speak English and act as interpreter. "'White man,' said Maduna, "'a message has reached us from our king.

"'Lobengula makes a great war and has need of us. he summons us back from this petty fray, this fight against cowards who hide behind walls, whom otherwise we would have killed everyone, yes, if we sat here till we grew old. So for this time we leave them alone. Robert answered politely that he was glad to hear it and wish them a good journey.

Wish yourself a good journey, white man, was the stern reply. Why, do you desire that I should accompany you to Lobengula? No, you go before. us to the kraal of the black one, who is even greater than the child of Moselicati, to that king who is called death. Robert crossed his arms and said, Say on.

White man, I promised you your life if you would show us how to pierce or climb those walls. But you have made fools of us. You have set us to cut through rock with spears and axes. Yes, to ho at rock as though it were soil. You, who with the wisdom of your people, could have taught us, some better way. Therefore, we must go back to our king disgraced, having failed in his service, and therefore you who have mocked us shall die. Come down now, that we may kill you quietly, and learn whether or no you are a brave man. Then it was, while her lover's hand was moving

towards the pistol hidden beneath his coat, that Benita, with a quick movement emerged from the wagon in which she crouched and stood up at his side upon the driving box. "'Oh!' said the captain. "'It is the white maiden. How came she here? Surely this is great magic! Can a woman fly like a bird?' And they stared at her, amazed. "'What does it matter how I came, Chief Maduna?' she answered in Zulu. "'Yet I will tell you why I came.' It was to save you from dipping your spear in the innocent blood and bringing on your head the curse of the innocent blood. Answer me now, who gave you and your brother yonder your lives within that wall

when the macalanga would have torn you limb from limb as hyenas tear a buck? Was it I or another? In Cossikas, chieftainess, replied the great captain, raising his broad spear in salute. It was you and no other. And what did you promise me then, Prince Maduna? "'Madden of high birth, "'I promised you your life and your goods, "'should you ever fall into my power?'

"'Does a leader of the Amanda Beely, "'one of the royal blood, "'lie like a Machalanga slave? "'Does he do worse? "'Tell half the truth only "'like a cheat who buys and keeps back half the price?' "'She asked contemptuously. "'Maduna, you've promised me not one life,

"'but two, two lives and the goods that belong to both. "'Ask of your brother there, who was witness of the words.' "'Great heavens!' muttered Robert Seymour to himself, "'as he looked at Benita standing with outstretched hand and flashing eyes. "'Who would have thought that a starved woman could play such a part, "'with death on the hazard?' "'It is, as the daughter of white chief says,' answered the man to whom she had appealed. "'When she freed us from the fangs of those dogs,

"'you promised her two lives, my brother, "'one for yours and one for mine.' "'Hear him,' went on Benita. "'He promised me two lives, "'and how did this prince of the royal blood keep his promise? "'When I and the old man, my father, "'wrote hence in peace. "'He loosed his spears upon us.

"'He hunted us. "'Yet it was the hunters who fell into the trap, "'not the hunted.' "'Madden,' replied Maduna in a shamed voice, "'that was your fault, not mine. "'If you had appealed to me, I would have let you go. "'But you killed my son.' sentry, and then the chase began, and ere I knew who you were, my runners were out of call.

Little time had I to ask your mercy, but so be it, said Benita, I accept your word, and I forgive you that offence. Now, fulfil your oath, be gone, and leave us in peace. Still, Maduna hesitated. I must make report to the king, he said. What is this white man to you that I should spare him. I give you your life and your father's life, not that of this white man who has tricked us. If he were your father or your brother, it would be otherwise, but he is a stranger, and belongs to me, not to you. Madonna, she asked, do women such as I am share the wagon of a stranger? This man is more to me than father or brother. He is my husband, and I claim his life. How? said the spokesman of the audience. We understand now. She is his wife and has

a right to him. If she were not his wife, she would not be in his wagon. It is plain that she speaks the truth, though how she came here we do not know, unless, as we think, she is a witch. And he smiled at his own cleverness. In cosy-cass, said Madonna, you have persuaded me. I give you the life of that white fox your husband and i hope that he will not trick you as he has tricked us and set you to whole rock instead of soil and he looked at robert wrathfully i give him to you and all his belongings now is there anything else that you would ask yes replied benita coolly you have many oxen there which you took from the other macalanga mine are eaten and i need cattle to draw my wagon i ask a present of twenty of them and, she added by an afterthought, "'Two cows with young calves, "'for my father is sick yonder, and must have milk.' "'Oh, give them to her! Give them to her!' said Maduna,

with a tragic gesture, that in any other circumstances would have made Benita laugh. "'Give them to her, and see that they are good ones, before she has our shields and spears also. "'But after all, she saved my life.' "'So men departed to fetch those cows and oxen, which presently were driven in. While this talk was in progress,

the great impi of the Matabili was massing for the march on the flat ground a little to the right of them. Now they began to come past in companies, preceded by the lads who carried the mats and cooking pots and drove the captured sheep and cattle. By this time, the story of Benita, the white witchwoman,

whom they could not kill, and who had mysteriously flown from the top of the peak into their prisoner's wagon. had spread among them. They knew also that it was she who had saved their general from the Makalanga, and those who had heard her admired the wit and courage with which she had pleaded and won her cause. Therefore, as they marched past in their companies,

singing a song of abuse and defiance of the Makalanga, who peered at them from the top of the wall, they lifted their great spears in salutation to Benita, standing upon the wagon-box. Indeed, they were the same. They were a wondrous and imposing spectacle, such a one as few white women have ever seen. At length all were gone, except Maduna and a bodyguard of two hundred men. He walked to the front of the wagon and addressed Robert Seymour.

Listen, you fox who set us to whole granite, he said indignantly. You have outwitted us this time, but if ever I meet you again, then you die. Now I have given you your life. But, he added, almost pleadingly, if you are really brave as white men are said to be, will you not come down and fight me man to man for honour's sake? I think not, answered Robert, when he understood this challenge, but what chance should I have against so brave a warrior?

Also, this lady, my wife, needs my help on her journey home. Maduna turned from him contemptuously to Benita. I go, he said, and fear not, you will not. meet no matabili on that journey have you more words for me o beautiful one with a tongue of oil and a wits that cuts like steel yes answered benita you have dealt well with me and in reward i give you of my good luck bear this message to your king from the white witch of bambatsi for i am she and no other that he leave these mackalanga my servants to dwell unharmed in the ancient home and that he lift no spear against the white men lest that evil which the Mollimo foretold to you should fall upon him. Ah, said Maduna, now I understand how you flew from the mountaintop into this man's wagon. You are not a white woman.

You are the ancient witch of Bambatsy herself. You have said it, and with such it is not well to war. Great lady of magic, spirit of old, I salute you, and I thank you for your gifts of life, and fortune, farewell. Then he too stalked away at the head of his guard, so that presently, save for the three Zulu servants and the herd of cattle, Robert and Benita were left utterly alone.

Now her part played and the victory won, Benita burst into tears and fell upon her lover's breast. Presently she remembered and freed herself from his arms. "'I am a selfish wretch,' she said, How dare I be so happy when my father is dead or dying? We must go at once. Go where? asked the bewildered Robert. To the top of the mountain, of course, which I came from.

Oh, don't stop to question me. I'll tell you as we walk. Stay, and she called to the Zulu driver, who, with an air of utter amazements, was engaged in milking one of the gift cows to fill two bottles with the milk. Had we not better shout to the macalanga to let us in, suggested Robert. while this was being done. Benita wrapped some cooked meat in a cloth. No, no, they will think I am what I said I was, the witch of Bambatsy, whose appearance heralds misfortune and fear a trap.

Besides, we could not climb the top wall. You must follow my road, and if you can trust them, bring two of those men with you with lanterns. The lad can stop to herd the cattle. Three minutes later, followed by the two Zulus, they were walking, or rather, running along the banks of the Zambezi. Why do you not come quicker? She asked impatiently. Oh, I beg your pardon.

You are lame, Robert. What made you lame? And oh, why are you not dead as they all swore you were? You, you, hero! For I know that part of the story. For a very simple reason, Benita, because I didn't die. When that kaffir took the watch from me, I was insensible, that's all.

The son brought me to life afterwards. Then some natives turned up. Good people in their way, although I could not understand a word they said. They made a stretcher of boughs and carried me for some miles to the kraal inland. It hurt awfully, for my thigh was broken, but I arrived at last. There a kaffir doctor set my leg in his own fashion. It has left it an inch shorter than the other, but that's better than nothing. In that place I lay for two solid months, for there was no white man within a hundred miles.

And if there had been, I could not have communicated with him. him afterwards i spent another month limping up towards natal until i could buy a horse the rest is very short i found out that i was dead and came as fast as i could to your father's farm vroy crants where i learned from the old frau sally that you had taken to treasure hunting the same treasure that i told you of on the zanzibar so i followed your spoor met the servants whom you had sent back who told me all about you and in due course i was after many adventures, as they say in a book, walked into the camp of our friends, the Matabili. They were going to kill me at once, when suddenly you appeared upon that point of rock, glittering like, like the angel of the dawn. I knew that it must be you,

for I had found out about your attempted escape and how you were hunted back to this place. But the Matabili all thought that it was the spirit of Bambatsi, who has a great reputation in these parts. Well, that took off. their attention, and afterwards, as I told you, it occurred to them that I might be an engineer. You know the rest, don't you? Yes, answered Benita softly, I know the rest.

Then they plunged into the reeds, and were obliged to stop talking, since they must walk in single file. Presently, Benita looked up and saw that she was under the thorn which grew in the cleft of rock. Also, with some trouble, she found the bunch of reeds that she had bent down. to mark the inconspicuous hole through which she had crept, and by it her lantern. It seemed weak since she had left it there. Now, she said, light your candles, and if you see a crocodile, please shoot. End of Chapter 23. Chapter 24 of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard.

This Librevox recording is in the public domain. The True Gold "'Let me go first,' said Robert. "'No,' answered Benita. "'I know the way, but please do watch for that horrible crocodile.' Then she knelt down and crept into the hole, while after her came Robert, and after him the two Zulus, who protested that they were not ant-pairs to burrow underground.

Lifting the lantern she searched the cave, and as she could see no signs of the crocodile, walked on boldly to where the stairs began, be quick she whispered to robert for in that place it seemed natural to speak low my father is above and near his death i am dreadfully afraid lest we should be too late so they toiled up the endless steps a very strange procession for the two zulus bold men enough outside were shaking with fright till at length benita clambered out of the trap-door on to the floor of the treasure-chamber and turned to help robert whose lameness made him somewhat slow and awkward what's all that he asked pointing to the hide sacks while they waited for the two scared kaffirs to join them oh she answered indifferently gold i believe look there is some of it on the floor over benita de ferrera's footsteps gold why it must be worth and who on earth is benita de ferrera i will tell you afterwards she has has been dead two or three hundred years it was her gold or her peoples and those are her footprints in the dust how stupid you are not to understand never mind the hateful stuff come on quickly

so they passed the door which she had opened that morning and clambered up the remaining stairway so full was benita of terrors that she could never remember how she climbed them suppose that the foot of the crucifix had swung too "'Suppose that her father were dead. "'Supposed that Jacob Mea had broken into the cave. "'Well, for herself, she was no longer afraid of Jacob Mea. "'Oh, they were there. "'The heavy door had begun to close, "'but mercifully her bit of rock kept it ajar. "'Father, father!' she cried, running towards the tent.

"'No answer came. "'She threw aside the flap, held down her lantern and looked. There he lay, white and still. She was too late. He's dead! He's dead! She wailed. Roberts knelt down at her side and examined the old man

while she waited in an agony. He ought to be, he said slowly. But, Benita, I don't think he is. I can feel his heart stir. No, don't stop to talk. Pour out some of that square face, and here, mix it with this milk. She obeyed, and while he held up her father's head, with a trembling hand, emptied a little of the drink into his mouth.

At first it ran out again, then, almost automatically he swallowed some, and they knew that he was alive and thanked heaven. Ten minutes later, Mr. Clifford was sitting up, staring at them, with dull and wondering eyes, while outside the two Zulus, whose nerves had now utterly broken down, were contemplating the pile of skeletons in the corner at the white towering crucifix, and loudly lamenting that they should have been brought to perish in this place of bones and ghosts. Is it Jacob Meier who makes that noise? asked Mr. Clifford faintly. And Benita, where have you been so long, and who is this gentleman with you?

I seem to remember his face. He's the white man who is in the wagon, father. An old friend come to life again. Robert, can't you stop the howling of those kaffirs? Though I'm sure I don't wonder that they howl. I should have liked to do so for days. Oh, father, father, don't you understand me? We are saved, yes, snatched out of hell and the jaws of death.

Is Jacob Mayer dead then? he asked. i don't know where he is or what has happened to him and i don't care but perhaps we had better find out robert there is a madman outside make the kaffirs pull down that wall will you and catch him what wall what madman he asked staring at her oh of course you don't know that either you know nothing i'll show you and you must be prepared for probably he will shoot at us it all sounds a little risky doesn't it asked robert doubtfully yes but we must take the risk we cannot carry my father down that place and unless we can get him into light and air soon he will certainly die the man outside is jacob maya his partner you remember him all these weeks of hardship and treasure-hunting have sent him off his head and he wanted to mesmerize me and-and what make love to you she nodded then went on so when he could not get his way about the mesmerism and so forth he threatened to murder my father and that is why we had to hide in this cave and build ourselves up till at last i found the way out amiable gentleman mr yakob mayor now as always said robert flushing to think that you should have been in the power of a scoundrel like that well i hope to come square with him don't hurt him dear unless you are obliged remember he is not responsible he thought he saw a ghost the other day. Unless he behaves himself he is likely to see a good many soon,

muttered Robert. Then they went down the cave and as silently as possible began to work at the wall, destroying in a few minutes what had been built up with so much labour. When it was nearly down, the Zulus were told that there was an enemy outside and that they must help to catch him if necessary, but were not to harm him. They assented gladly enough. Indeed, to get Get out of that cave they would have faced half a dozen enemies. Now there was a hole right through the wall, and Robert bade Benita stand to one side. Then, as soon as his eyes became accustomed to the little light that penetrated there,

he drew his revolver and beckoned the Caffirs to follow. Down the passage they crept, slowly, lest they should be blinded when they came to the glare of the sunshine, while Benita waited with a beating heart. A little time went by She never knew how long So suddenly a rifle shot rang through the stillness Benita was able to bear no more She rushed down the winding passage

And presently, just beyond its mouth In a blurred and indistinct fashion Saw that the two white men were rolling together on the ground While the kaffirs sprang round Watching for an opportunity to seize one of them At that moment they succeeded and Robert rose, dusting his hands and knees. "'Amiable gentleman, Mr. Jacob Meier,' he repeated,

"'I could have killed him as his back was towards me, "'but didn't because you asked me not. "'Then I stumbled with my lame leg, "'and he whipped round and let drive with his rifle. "'Look!' and he showed her where the bullet had cut his ear. "'Luckily I got hold of him before he could loose off another.' "'Benita could find no words. "'Her heart was too full of thankful,

Only she seized Robert's hand and kissed it. Then she looked at Jacob. He was lying upon the broad of his back, the two big Zulus holding his arms and legs. His lips were cracked, blue and swollen. His face was almost black, but his eyes still shone bright with insanity and hate. "'I know you!' he screamed hoarsely to Robert.

"'You are another ghost! the ghost of that man who was drowned. Otherwise, my bullet would have killed you. Yes, Mr. Mayor, Seymour answered. I am a ghost. Now, you boys, here's a bit of rope. Tie his hands behind his back and search him. There is a pistol in that pocket.

They obeyed, and presently Mayor was disarmed and bound fast to a tree. Water, he moaned. For days I have had nothing but the dew I could lick off the leaves. Pitying his plight, Benita ran into the cave and returned presently with a tin of water. One of the kaffirs held it to his lips

and he drank greedily. Then, leaving one Zulu to watch him, Robert, Benita and the other Zulu went back, and as gently as they could, carried out Mr. Clifford on his mattress, placing him in the shade of a rock where he lay blessing them feebly, because they had brought him into the light again.

at the sight of the old man the mayor's rage blazed up afresh ah he screamed if only i had killed you long ago she would be mine now not that fellows it was you who stood between us look here my friend broke in robert i forgive you everything else but mad or sane be good enough to keep miss clifford's name off your lips or i will hand you over to those kaffirs to be dealt with as you deserve then jacob understood and was silent they gave him more water and food to eat some of the meat that they had brought with them which he devoured ravenously are you sensible now asked robert when he had done then listen to me i have some good news for you the treasure you have been hunting for has been found we are going to give you your half of it one of the wagons and some oxen and clear you out of this place then if i set eyes on you again before we get to a civilized country, I shoot you like a dog. You lie, said Mayor, sullenly. You want to turn me out into the wilderness, to be murdered by the Makalanga or the Matabili. Very well, said Robert, untie him boys and bring him along.

I will show him whether I lie. Where are they taking me to? asked Mayor. Not into the cave. I won't go into the cave. It is haunted. If it hadn't been for the ghost there, I would have broken down their wall long ago and killed that old snake before her eyes. Whenever I went near that wall, I saw it watching me. First time I ever heard of a ghost being useful, remarked Robert. Bring him along.

No, Benita. He shall see whether I am a liar. So the lights were lit and the two stalwart Zulus, hail Jacob forward. Robert and Benita following. At first he struggled violently, then, on finding that he could not escape, went on, his teeth chattering with fear. "'It is cruel,' remonstrated Benita. "'A little cruelty will not do him any harm,' Robert answered. "'He has plenty to spare for other people.

"'Besides, he is going to get what he has been looking for so long.' "'They led Jacob to the foot of the crucifix, where a paroxysm seemed to seize him, then pushed him through the swinging doorway beneath and down the steep stairs till once more they all stood in the treasure chamber Luke said Robert and drawing his hunting knife he slashed one of the hide bags whereon instantly there flowed out a stream of beads and nuggets

now my friend am I a liar he asked at this wondrous sight Jacob's terror seemed to depart from him and he grew cunning. Beautiful, beautiful, he said. More than I thought, sacks and sacks of gold. I shall be a king indeed. No, no, it is all a dream like the rest.

I don't believe it's there. Loose my arms and let me feel it. Untie him, said Robert, at the same time drawing his pistol and covering the man. He can't do as any hurt. The cafes obeyed, and Jacob, springing at the slashed bag, plunged his thin hands into it. No lie, he screamed. No lie! As he dragged the stuff out and smelt at it. Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of gold!

Let's make a bargain, Englishman, and I won't kill you as I meant to do. You take the girl and give you. me all the gold. And in his ecstasy he began to pour the glittering ingots over his head and body. A new version of the tale of Danny, began Robert in a sarcastic voice. Then suddenly paused, for a change had come over Jacob's face, a terrible change. It turned ashen beneath the tan, his eyes grew large and round. He put up his hands as though to thrust something for. from him. His whole frame shivered and his hair seemed to erect itself.

Slowly he retreated backwards and would have fallen down the unclosed trap-hole, had not one of the kaffirs pushed him away. Back he went, still back, till he struck the further wall, and stood there, perhaps for half a minute. He lifted his hand, and pointed first to those ancient footprints, some of which still remained in the dust of the and next as they thought at Benita. His lips moved fast. He seemed to be pleading, remonstrating, yet, and this was the ghastliest part of it.

From them there came no sound. Lastly, his eyes rolled up until only the whites of them were visible. His face became wet as the water had been poured over it, and still without a sound he fell forward. and moved no more. So terrible was the scene that with a howl of fear

the two kaffirs turned and fled up the stairway. Robert sprang to the Jew, dragged him over onto his back, put his hand upon his breast and lifted his eyelids. Dead, he said. Stone dead!

Privation, brain excitements, heart failure, that's the story. perhaps answered benita faintly but really i think that i begin to believe in ghosts also look i never noticed them before and i didn't walk there but those footsteps seemed to lead right up to him then she turned to and fled another week had gone by the wagons were laden with a burden more precious perhaps than wagons have often borne before in one of them on a veron on a veron of a veron more precious perhaps than wagons have often borne before in one of them on a Veritable bed of gold slept Mr Clifford, still very weak and ill, but somewhat better than he had been, and with a good prospect of recovery, at any rate, for a while.

They were to trek a little after dawn, and already Robert and Benita were up and waiting. She touched his arm and said to him, Come with me, I have a fancy to see that place once more, for the last time. So they climbed the hill, and the steep steps in the table, topmost wall that Mayer had blocked, reopened now, and reaching the mouth of the cave, lit the lamps which they had brought with them, and entered. There were the fragments of the barricade that Benita had built with desperate hands. There was the altar of sacrifice,

standing cold and grey as it had stood for perhaps three thousand years. There was the tomb of the old monk, who had a companion now, but in it Jacob Mayer lay with him, his bones covered by the debris that he himself had dug out in his mad search for wealth and there the white christ hung awful on his cross only the skeletons of the portuguese were gone for with the help of his kaffirs robert had moved them every one into the empty treasure-chamber closing the trap beneath and building up the door above so that there they might lie in peace at last in this melancholy place they tarried but a little while then turning their backs upon it for ever went out and climbed the granite cone to watch the sun rise over the broad up its claim in glory that same sun which had shone upon the despairing benita de ferrera and upon the english benita when she had stood here in utter hopelessness and seen the white man captured by the matabili now difference was their state indeed and there in that high place whence perhaps many a wretched creature had been cast to death when certainly the portuguese maiden had sought her death these two happy beings were not ashamed to give thanks to heaven for the joy which it had vouched safe to them and for their hopes of life full and long to be travelled hand in hand

behind them was the terror of the cave beneath them were the mists of the valley but about them the light shone and rolled and sparkled and above them stretched the eternal sky they descended the pillar and near the foot of it saw an old man sitting it was mambo the molymo of the macalanga even when they were still far away from him they knew his snow-white head and thin acetic face As they drew near, Benita perceived that his eyes were closed and whispered to Robert that he was asleep. Yet he had heard them coming, and even guessed her thought. Maiden, he said in his gentle voice, Maiden, who shall soon be a wife, I do not sleep, although I dream of you, as I have dreamt before.

What did I say to you that day when we first met? that for you I had good tidings, that though death was all about you, you need not fear, that in this place you who had known great sorrow should find happiness and rest. Yet, maiden, you would not believe the words of the Munwali, spoken by his prophet's lips, as he at your side, who shall be your husband, would not believe me in years past when I told him that we should meet again. Father, she answered, I thought your rest was that which we find only in the grave. You would not believe, he went on, without heeding her,

and therefore you tried to fly, and therefore your heart was torn with terror and with agony, when it should have waited for the end, in confidence and peace. Father, my trial was very sore. Maiden, I know it, and because it was so sore that patient spirit of Bambatsi bore with you,

and through it all guided your feet right. Yes, with you has that spirit gone by day, by night, in the morning and in the evening. Who was it that smote the man who lies dead yonder, with horror and with madness, when he would have bent your will to his, and made you a wife to him.

Who was it that told you the secret of the treasure pit, and what footsteps went before you down its stair? Who was it that led you past the centuries of the Amanda Beale, and gave you wit and power to snatch your lord's life from Aduna's bloody hand? "'Yes, with you it has gone, and with you it will go. "'No more shall the white witch stand upon the pillar point "'at the rising of the sun or in the shining of the moon.' "'Father, I have never understood you, "'and I do not understand you now,' said Benita.

"'What has this spirit to do with me?' "'He smiled a little, then answered slowly. "'That I may not tell you. That you shall learn one day, but never hear. When you also have entered into silence, then you shall learn. But I say to you that this shall not be till your hair is as white as mine, and your years are as many. Ah, you thought that I had deserted you, when, fearing for your father's life, you wept and prayed in the darkness of the cave. yet it was not so for i did but suffer the doom which i had read to fulfil itself as it must do he rose to his feet and rising on his staff laid one withered hand upon the head of benita

maiden he said we meet no more beneath the sun yet because you have brought deliverance to my people because you are sweet and pure and true take with you you the blessing of Munwali, spoken by the mouth of his servant Mambo, the old Molimo of Bambatsi. Though from time to time you must know tears and walk in the shade of sorrows, long and happy shall be your days

with him whom you have chosen. Children shall spring up about you and children's children and with them also shall the blessing go. The gold, you white folk, love is yours, and it shall multiply and give food to the hungry and raiment to those that are a cold. Yet in your own heart lies a richer store that cannot melt away, the countless treasure of mercy and of love. When you sleep and when you wake, love shall take you by the hand, till at length he leaves. you through life's dark cave to that eternal house of purest gold which soon or late those that seek it shall inherit

and with his staff he pointed to the glowing morning sky wherein one by one little rosy clouds floated upwards and were lost to robert and to benita's misty eyes they looked like bright-winged angels throwing wide the black portals of the night and heralding that conquering sun at whose advent despair and darkness flee away End of Chapter 24. End of the Spirit of Bambatsy by H. Ryder Haggard.